


Unexpected Awakening

by Rhiw



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, EmotionallyCrippled!Obi-Wan, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief is an ugly thing, Grief/Mourning, In Denial! Qui-Gon, Master/Padawan Bonding, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Time Travel, Whump!Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 85,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiw/pseuds/Rhiw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life of General Kenobi is cut short at the hands of his Padawan, but the sight that greets his eyes upon awakening is not that of blinding light of the Force, but the Jedi Temple he knew when he was still a youth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakening

Obi-Wan Kenobi blinked against the sunlight in the room.

His hands went to his heart and was stunned to find it intact, and Obi-Wan stared down at the solid flesh against his hand in shock. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the panic blossoming inside of him and winced painfully, hands reflexively griped his tunic tighter. A throb was aching deep within his heart, a painful burning sensation that seemed to spread out and into his lungs and Obi-Wan rubbed the skin over it harshly, as if that would some how help.

It didn't.

The pain in his heart spiked with each breath he took, becoming more and more unbearable with each second, and with little warning his stomach launched its protest at such abuse. Falling on all fours Obi-Wan fought to cease his vomiting, but found that his stomach was refusing his commands. He was horribly confused; he was... he was dead, right? Surely _this_ was not the Force. Obi-Wan had always thought it was warmth, light, and peace, not emptying his insides out until he wretched so hard it felt as if his spine would break.

His throat convulsed pain bringing his focus back to his body, and Obi-Wan shuddered as he felt the sharp sting of bile in his nostrils. His stomach had succeeded in emptying itself all over the rich blue carpet and for a moment the Jedi just stared at it, hovering on all fours and wondering when it was he'd eaten noodles. A large hand cupped his shoulder and Obi-Wan started, eyes immediately snapping up to assess the owner of the hand. A Jedi Master kneeled before him, a sympathetic smile on his face as his thumb messaged Obi-Wan's shoulder comfortingly.

"Feel better now?" Obi-Wan stared in open shock at the Jedi, nodding dumbly in response. The Master - Obi-Wan's mind quickly supplied his name, a gentle human by the name of Cort Rent - stared back curiously.

Obi-Wan leaned back onto his heels, nodding slowly as he stared at the dead man, Mind racing. _A_ _Jedi? But that was impossible...it was impossible! There was no way!_

His eyes refocused past the Master's face, blurring slightly as he focused in on the group of booted people that were quickly forming a circle around him. Obi-Wan raised his gaze, barely able to muster the strength to do so. A part of him was afraid of what he may see, afraid that he would recognize too many, and remember how he had failed them. Again and again. Because somehow, impossibly, Jedi surrounded him.

"How?" Obi-Wan blinked at his own voice, a hand rising to touching his voice box in confusion. _Was that my voice?_

"Obi-Wan!" A worried voice called from the back of the crowd. "Excuse me, please move!"

"Bant?" The shocked Jedi breathed, his voice shaking. The Mon Calamari took one look at her soiled friend and threw her arms around him. Obi-Wan shook in the embrace, unable to bring himself to respond as love and worry radiated off the girl in waves. The human Jedi felt himself tear up at the emotions; it had been years since he'd last experienced the Mon Calamari's comforting friendship and his hands twitched at his side, wanting desperately to embrace her but they were seemingly frozen by his side. _There_ _was no way, this was just too cruel a joke. This couldn't be real._

The girl took his lack of response as a bad sign, her concerns watching. "Oh, Obi," she breathed, "what's wrong? Are you sick?"

He shook his head and gently pried Want off of him, clambering to his feet and backing cautiously away from her. "What," Obi-Wan lowered his voice, the crispness he had acquired as a General layering it, "is going on?"

Bant frowned, her smooth, salmon colored skin gaining a greyer tone as she flushed in concern. "Obi-Wan?" She stepped forward, hand held out tentatively. "Have you stopped sleeping again?" He stared at her. Stopped sleeping? Sleeping was a luxury a Jedi could not afford to have in these dark days. Bant nodded, a grim line taking her lips. "I thought so." Then slightly quieter, "Why didn't you tell me?" 

She took another step forward, but a commanding voice froze her mid motion.  "What seems to be the problem here?" 

Mace Windu - dear Force, in all his glory - stood before him, his brown eyes still held strength and vitality, bright with life. Something swelled up in Obi-Wan's chest and he forced himself to drop the Council member's gaze, the Jedi Master's cruel death flickering through his mind. He swallowed. Hard.

_Am I...Am I in the past? Was it all some horrible dream?_

Obi-Wan destroyed that hope, stamping it away before it could take a deeper root. This was an impossibility, this had to be some kind of trick, some new way Anakin thought up to torture him. Perhaps he hadn't truly died after all. The Jedi's eyes narrowed suspiciously, a hand coming to rest over his heart as he surveyed the group around him. _There was no way I could have survived a lightsaber blow to the heart._

"I'm afraid that we had a bit of an accident." Master Rent said as he stood from his kneeling position. He smiled kindly at his Padawan, taking a stack of datapads back from the struggling Twil'lek. "Poor lad didn't quite make it to a refresher in time."

Master Windu nodded, pulling his comm. unit from his belt and calling for a droid cleaner to be sent to the Main Hall. Cort Rent's Padawan looked from her Master to Mace to the surrounding Jedi before snorting incredulously. "Is no one going to mention that fact that he's gone all wonky?"

"Padawan!" Rent reprimanded strictly, visibly embarrassed, and the Twil'lek winced at Rent's obvious displeasure.

"But Master," she whined,dove grey skin flushing, "you saw how he was acting!"

Mace looked from the padawan to the Master, an eyebrow raised imperiously. "Anything you need to tell me, Master Rent?"

Master Rent nodded, shoving the data pads back into his padawan's hands with an irritated glare. The girl groaned as she once again fought to balance the tall stack against her short frame. "The Initiate seems a bit disoriented."

Mace looked at the padawan, but clearly cowed a only shrugged. A webbed hand was pressed comforting against his forearm as the Baby instinctively shot to his defense.

"He hasn't been sleeping." Bant explained quickly, eyes darting from the Council member to the blank face of her friend. "And I think he has a cold."

Obi-Wan offered no defense. He simply stared. This couldn't be happening. None of this could be real. Not. Real.

Apparently the Padawan couldn't help herself. "I still say he went fritzo. He feels all weird."

"Padawan," Rent breathed, appalled, "apologize for your lack of consideration of the Initiate's feelings at once." Sighing the girl bowed, barely managing to keep the datapads from spilling everywhere. "Please forgive Quea. It is a daily struggle for her to remember her manners."

The Twil'lek blushed even hoter as a series of sniggers erupted around them.

"What do we have going on here Mace? A gathering in the Main Hall?" Everything inside Obi-Wan came to a screeching halt at the sound of that voice. A much younger Qui-Gon Jinn than the one from his memories stepped from the shadows of the crowd, a small grin playing on his lips as he rested his hand on Mace's shoulder.

 _You_ would _find this funny._

Qui-Gon glanced at the puke, his smile never wavering, and then back to Obi-Wan. "Not feeling too well are we?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, wincing as his heart throbbed. He rubbed it, pressing his palm into his chest roughly, as if the pressure would stop the sensation. Unfortunately it did not, the burning once again growing with each breath and his stomach _rolled_ , nausea hitting him with a tidal wave of queasiness.

"Move!" Pushing Rent away Obi-Wan fell once again to his knees. His body retched...but nothing would come out. But he could not still it.

"Obi-Wan!" Bant cried, her voice taking a high pitched, worried tone as she dropped to her knees next to him.Obi-Wan wavered her concerned touch away, wincing as a burning sensation rushed up his throat and coated his tongue. Obi-Wan stared down in disgust at the bright green stomach bile. It came up again, but Obi-Wan forced his mouth shut, determined to save some of his dignity and swallowed it back down. With a strained groaned he fell off to the side, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. The pain wasn't lessening and his body still demanded that it purge itself. _This_   _is worse then when I ate that stew Anakin made for my birthday._

The pain in his heart intensified with the thought of his former padawan and he pressed his palms firmer into his eyes as Obi-Wan opened his mind to the Force, letting its sweetness wash over, providing comfort as it could. He sighed, releasing his fear and confusion into it, sensing it hum around him as the emotions vanished.

For so long, the Force had been his only comfort, the only friend he knew that he would not lose. For a moment he stilled all thoughts, pushed away the raging emotions, and simply listened. The Force was whispering to him; this was no trick, this was no illusion. Somehow, someway, he had been transported back in time. Obi-Wan couldn't understand it; was he here for a purpose? Was he supposed to try and change things for the better or allow them to play out their own course? He didn't even know if he could allow it do that – no, he knew he could not survive it a second time. It would utterly break him.

Nothing would ever be the same.

The pain in his heart escalated, responding to the new anxiety that had rooted in his mind. Obi-Wan pressed the flat of his hand against the fabric above his heart.  _A_ _gift from a Padawan to his Master._

That was what Anakin had whispered to him before he had driven the crimson blade through him. Groaning, Obi-Wan's hand twitched against his heart.  _These are thoughts are for another time._

He had more then enough opportunities to study Grief Release into the Force and drew on that experience, quieting his thoughts as he opened himself completely to the Force, and the pain began to dull, growing weaker each time the Force lapped against it. Encouraged, Obi-Wan released everything to it, allowing it to sweep across his mind. He didn't give a second thought to the crowd of Jedi that surrounded him, or how they would undoubtedly feel the Force respond to him, feel it swell and shift around him, or that they were analyzing his every move. In the moment he could hardly care.


	2. Repercussions

_This couldn't be real._

That was the only thing that Obi-Wan could bring himself to think as the Force swept away his pain. He had just been at the volcano mouth, fighting the only boy he would ever call apprentice, and now - and now he was spralled across the carpeted floor of his childhood home. _This_ _couldn't be real. No matter how real it looked, how real it felt – this_ couldn't _be real._

The Force wouldn't do this to him, it wouldn't give this to him, not after the way he had failed. Obi-Wan dug his palms harder into his eyes, ignoring the slight pain at the movement. He had been too arrogant, he should have realized he was too young to train Anakin. He should have given him to Yoda, the Grandmaster would have trained the boy if he had only insisted, Obi-Wan knew it. Force, to think he had complained of Anakin's arrogance! And oh, what had it cost him...Obi-Wan let out a rush of breath. _Stop it, Kenobi._ Such thoughts would get him nowhere. He let his hands slide off his face and slowly opened his eyes. His weary eyes trailed across the arched ceiling of Main Hall of the Jedi Temple.

Yes, this was the Temple, Obi-Wan would have recognized it anywhere. This was the place he had grown up in. This _was_ his home...and he had let it go up in flames, had let those he called family be slaughtered with the aid of his only padawan. He shook himself again, forcing himself up into a sitting position.

"Careful now." Master Rent said kindly, laying a gentle hand on his back - only to withdraw it almost instantly, clearly surprised by the clear amount of discomfort his touch obviously brought to him. Obi-Wan stood again, slightly pleased to find the wrenching feeling almost gone from his stomach. Taking a steady breath, he brought his eyes up. The Jedi tugged at the end of his sleeves, annoyed that he didn't have his cloak for him to fold his hands into and he strained the sleeves until they rested where he wanted, his eyes roaming the faces of the Jedi around him. However, in the end, his gaze kept returning to one man.

"I think it would be best if you went to the academic medical corridor, Initiate Kenobi." Windu said in an authoritative tone as the droid finished cleaning the floor. Obi-Wan could only nod. "Qui-Gon, could you make sure he arrives there?" Master Windu asked. 

A flicker of annoyance flashed over the Jedi's face. "Actually Mace, I was just on my way-"

"Then it's settled," Mace patted him lightly on the shoulder, giving the exasperated Jedi a friendly smile, "everyone, please return to your business. Initiate Erin, back to class. Go on."

Bant shut her mouth with a deep frown and for a moment Obi-Wan thought the steadfast and loyal Mon Calamari was going to challenge _Mace Windu_. But in the end years of Jedi decorum won and she didn't, sending her friend one last concerned look before hesitantly making her way off to her next class.

And so Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself being escorted to the Healer's ward by his former Master. All he could do was walk in silence next to the Jedi, his eyes slightly blurred. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recognized the signs of shock, but who in their right mind wouldn't be in shock?

He glanced up at Qui-Gon, his heart aching at the sight of him, at the sight of the only man Obi-Wan could even remotely call father. The Master stared straight ahead of him, his face emotionless, but Obi-Wan Kenobi had not spent thirteen years with the man and never learned to read him. Qui-Gon was not pleased with his presence, not so soon after the sting of Xanatos' betrayal (and undoubtedly Qui-Gon felt this another ploy to force him to interact with Initiates), and the silence was the cruelest torture he'd ever experienced. He longed to reach out to Qui-Gon and embrace him, to beg him to speak and say something - anything - to Obi-Wan. For, naïvely, it to be like how it once was.

_It will never be like it once was._

Obi-Wan choked on the sob in the back of his throat. Even if he somehow became Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan again, he could hardly forget what was come. Nor should he. Nor did he _want_ to. Obi-Wan should and would live every day in guilt knowing he'd let his Master die and then failed him with Anakin, that in the end he had failed everyone. That was his burden, his onus. His responsibility. Why couldn't he just be dead? That would be so much easier then thinking of all the death that awaited them, of Anakin growing even more lost, driven to such cruelty and evil; Obi-Wan's little boy (his little brother) lost forever under the mantle of the Sith. Tears were gathering in his eyes and Obi-Wan fought to keep them back, feeling utterly overwhelmed. How could he be standing here right now? Why had he gotten this chance? Why not Mace? Dear, dear Mace who had fought so valiantly, even to the end. Brilliant Mace who had reached out to Obi-Wan after his Master's death and took the grieving Jedi deep into his confidence, who had taught him how to be a Master, who had grown to be one of his closest friends. Mace, who now saw him as nothing more than a charge?

"Initiate Kenobi?" Blinking Obi-Wan realized that at some point he'd stopped walking and he dared a glance up at the Master. The sight of Qui-Gon's concerned eyes caused his guilt to fold in on itself and multiply.

"Sorry. I'm fine. I just...got dizzy for a moment." Obi-Wan knew the Master could tell he was lying, but the younger Jedi ignored this and began to walk again, this time with a quicker pace to it.

He was not yet strong enough to venture time alone with his former Master.

* * *

After a series of tests the Healers pronounced that Obi-Wan was in fine physical shape but seemed to be experiencing extreme stress, most likely brought on by the pressures of his upcoming birthday and as a preventive measure they had assigned him to a Mind Healer to whom he was to report to twice a week. It took all the effort in the world for Obi-Wan to keep a hold of his already strained self-control and not to laugh uncontrollably when the Healer had given him the assignment. A lone snort escaped him now. _Extreme stress. How astute._

Bant snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"Have you heard a word I've said?" Obi-Wan blinked up at her. The Mon Calamari had been waiting for him at the door to his room and the simple act touched Obi-Wan deeply. He'd forgotten how much she had cared for him; the two had been friends since they had met in the crèche and the human Jedi had few memories of his childhood without his pink skinned friend. But as they aged they had drifted apart, busy with adulthood and the responsibilities that briught, and they had never been as close as they had been as children. Bant had always been a bit of mother hen to little group and it was in full force now. She lectured him as she picked up his messy room, raving about the importance of seeing after his heath ( _"That means telling someone when you're not well, Obi!"_ ) and of new strategies for him to keep his temper under control at what was most likely going to be a firestorm of taunts and general humiliation for the following day.

"Now we know that Bruck's going to be jerk, that goes without saying. But please just try to ignore him this time, okay? The last thing you need is another fight on your record." Bant waited for him to respond and when none came sighed, throwing up webbed hands in defeat before moving on to the next topic of her lecture. Obi-Wan watched her tirade with a mixture of fond amusement and disbelief, even as he admired her maturity for her age. He couldn't bring himself to answer her back, as if by doing so he'd be openly admitting that he'd seriously, honestly, traveled into the past. He gave her a faint smile here and there, which she seemed mostly satisfied with.

At some point Bant had left and the lights of his small apartment flickered off. The dreaded 'lights out.' He remembered how much he used to hate that time of night when his small group of friends would have to stifle their laughter and depart for the night. How trivial yet precious it all seemed now.

Finally alone Obi-Wan let out a ragged breath and allowed himself to feel his emotions fully. He brought a shaky hand up to press against his mouth as he tried to wrap his mind around the situation. How had this happened? Why had the Force done this? When he had been about to die all Obi-Wan had been able to think of was the fact that he would finally see his friends again. He let out a dry laugh. It seems his wish had been granted, though not in the manner of which the Jedi had intended.

What was he supposed to do here?

Surely he wasn't expected to continue life as if nothing happened? How was he to deal with this? He could correct all the mistakes he had made, with Ani...with Qui-Gon. He could – kill Palpatine. His hands gripped at the comforter, pulling it loose from the mattress.

 _Yes._ He could kill Palpatine. He could find that slimy excuse for an old man and cut his head off before he could ever harm anyone Obi-Wan had ever loved, anyone he'd ever even dreamed of loving. That idea seemed a very good one to him. He could almost imagine – with a grunt he cut the image off. He had to let it go, as impossible as that sounded. He was venturing too close to the dark side.

_No. I mustn't act now. I must wait. Observe. Plan. There must be some reason I have been sent here. I cannot act without thinking._

Feeling slightly more comforted at having a general outline of action, Obi-Wan let out a sigh and rubbed at his eyes. How long had he been staring up at the ceiling? Glancing over at the clock he winced to find it nearly three in the morning.

He sat up and stared around the room with a stilted fondness. Starships he could still remember constructing hovered around the ceiling, a model of the universe was projected on one of his walls. He could still remember when his class had made it; they had all been assigned separate sections to complete. They had to pay painstaking detail to every asteroid field and rogue moon and afterwards they had connected the segments and been given copies.

The exercise was done to show them how large the galaxy was and as such to appreciate how far it had come. Obi-Wan could remember being amazed at the thought that many Jedi Masters had been to a good number of the planets and he firmly believed he would never have a chance to visit even one corner. As one of the cheiftains of the explorers guild of the Jedi Order, the irony of the situation did not miss him now.

He stood, staring down at the plush carpet that gave way under his feet. He could remember each stain, each missing patch as if it had happened only months ago instead of years. Obi-Wan slid into the refresher and took a deep breath before flicking on the lights.

Ah. So that's how old he was. A twelve year old boy stared back at him, complete with spiky brown hair and light blue grey eyes...he looked so young. It was amazing that Obi-Wan had once thought himself an adult ready to explore the universe and serve the Order. He was a _child,_ howbhad anyone managed to take him seriously? Obi-Wan frowned; if he wanted to exist without questions he would have to find a way to lighten up. He tried smiling, but it looked hollow and stretched. Sighing he leaned until his forehead was pressed against the cool mirror.

What in the Force's good name was he expected to accomplish here?

* * *

Try as he might, no sleep would come to Obi-Wan. Somehow, he could not bring himself to lie down on the childhood bed, to sleep in it as if nothing had happened. Instead he dug through his closet, pulling out a new uniform that fit his liking.

Surprisingly, the hardest thing to find was a pair of pants that would not rise over his ankles. Obi-Wan was disgusted to find himself in the middle of one of his dreaded growth spurts. _Dear Force, I'm a teenager again._ The realization struck him quite suddenly and Obi-Wan groaned at the thought of going through puberty once more. He remembered it as a terrible, trying time of raging hormones, annoying emotional dips and amazing bouts of raw hunger. He felt his shoulders slump in defeat at the thought of having to experience it a second time.

Eventually Obi-Wan found a new pair of pants, still slightly stiff but long enough that he didn't look ridiculous in it. Pulling his robe over top he called his lightsaber to his hand and it was when it hit his hand that Obi-Wan noticed it was different. He felt his eyes water slightly as he stared down at his original lightsaber. _That's_   _right, I haven't lost it yet._

While it was a blessing to have returned to him – he could still remember the many months he had spent painstakingly building it – the loss of his Master's lightsaber bit at him. He closed his eyes. It was a small price to pay because it meant thatQui-Gon was still alive _._

And that was one thing Obi-Wan planned on changing from his past. He would not lose him, not this time. He _refused_ it. The Force could ask him to do anything else; slit his own throat so that Qui-Gon would be able to train Anakin, verbally abuse the Council until they agreed with the brooding Master and allowed him to raise the boy. _Anything,_ but he could not allow Qui-Gon Jinn to die again.

Obi-Wan sighed as he realized that the lights in his room had come on. Striding over he palmed open his door and stepped out. The Temple lighting was programmed to mimic the rising sun; it started out low and grew brighter as the day went on though the hallways were usually always lit, and they currently were filled with a rich golden color that served as a pleasant change to freshly awoken eyes.

To his great unsurprise he was nearly alone in the hall, few Initiates were up and about at this hour and Obi-Wan himself had been notorious for being a late riser though in his old age the Jedi had outgrown that. He headed towards the cafeteria, wincing slightly as he remembered the...interesting and eclectic taste of some of the food there. He had a feeling he would miss his kitchen terribly before this whole thing was over.

The droid chirped slightly to him as he brought his plate to it and a few minutes later it was chalk full with a meal that while somewhat unappealing to look at served rather well as comfort food. Turning Obi-Wan stared at the cafeteria, his breath catching lightly as it was ever so slowly filling up with half-asleep students.

He'd never seen anything so beautiful.

"Hey Oafy-one!" Obi-Wan turned to stare at the voice, something akin to disbelief on his features. Bruck Chun. How could he have forgotten about Bruck? The boy had been a major bully of his past, someone who had made Obi-Wan's everyday a trial, yet how quickly he'd been forgotten as Obi-Wan had aged. Brick sauntered up to him, circling him in an applaing obvious attempt to intimidate and anger him. "I heard you barfed all over the main hall. Smooth, Kenobi, real smooth. I'm sure all those Masters loved that. I'm bet you're just swamped with callers."

Staring at the boy Obi-Wan had to fight to keep the disgust off his face. _This_ is what had thrown him in a tizzy when he was a youth? By the Force, he must been dull when he was a boy. Bruck's words were such an obvious attempt to quell his fear at his own lack of Master visitors and Obi-Wan watched the boy's face intently. He could still recall the trauma that had surrounded the boy's death, and the look of twisted fear om his face as he plummeted over the waterfall's side. But, the memory brought no pain. Long ago Obi-Wan was able to put that demon away, with no little help from his Master may he add, and he watched the boy now with a strange mix of sympathy and pity.

"Hm," Obi-Wan inclined his head in a short sign of acknowledgement and then turned away. He was too old and too tired to deal with such stupidity. Setting his tray down Obi-Wan sighed as he devoured his meal. At least his appetite had returned.


	3. Mistakes

Obi-Wan found, almost to his complete surprise, that his feet still knew the path he had taken every day of his youth. He watched the classrooms pass him in a surreal state. _It seems so…real._ Obi-Wan shook his head. Of course it seemed real, he was here wasn't he? Nevertheless, Obi-Wan could not fight the haunting feeling that any moment he was going to wake up and return to the ruined Republic and the scattered Jedi.

_To the universe I helped create._

Obi-Wan's hand flew to his chest, gritting his teeth at the small echo of pain that threatened to grow there. Fighting to keep the placid face he had perfected in his thirty-seven years Obi-Wan tried to rip himself from the past. Or was it the future? _What is to become of me? What is to become of those I left behind? What of Padme and the children? What would Anakin do to her now that the fair skinned senator had refused him? What of Master Yoda and the others? Surely some Jedi must have survived. Do they still live in that hell? Or was the future completely and utterly gone?_

Caught in his thoughts it took the grieving Jedi a few moments to realize that he had reached his first class. Ignoring the concerned look his Master Instructor was shooting him, Obi-wan slipped silently through the arched door, his eyes scanned the room automatically. He almost verbally reproached himself. There was no danger here. Not yet. Still, twenty-four years as an active field agent could not be turned off so quickly. Hesitantly he settled himself into a seat in the middle; one that he (hopefully) remembered was his own.

His plan for class was simple: answer some questions and act like an idiot on the others. Perhaps it seemed too simple or lacking in grace but he simply did not care. Obi-Wan could not think of any other way to fake not knowing a subject. The low tone that signaled class start filled the air and the rest of the students filed into the room, laughing and yawning as they took their seats. Obi-Wan felt a lump form in his throat as he stared at each one. Many of his clanmates had died in the first purge. A guilt of an intensity he had never felt before filled him as he saw images of valiant warriors broken down into smiling children. He adverted his eyes, staring at a fixed point on the girl's tunic in front of him.

_How can I face them?_

He fought down the rising panic. How could he face them knowing how the majority of them died? Having witnessed it? His eyes widened slightly as the girl in front of him laughed, the sound too characteristic to be ever missed interrupted.

"Chelli?" The name escaped his lips before he could stop himself. The humanoid girl turned to stare at him, green eyebrow arched.

"Yeah?" Obi-Wan shook his head, an apologetic smile on his face at her annoyed look. He had tutored Chelli in Mathematics for a while. Or at least he would in a few years. The experience had definitely been burned into his mind. The violence of the girl had been famous before Qui-Gon had volunteered Obi-Wan for the tutoring job. Her reputation only grew afterwards. Shaking his head Obi-Wan simply leaned back, a remorseful smile on his face as he watched her speak with her friends.

 _Her Padawan was just like her_.

He fought a laugh. Yes, the two were almost identical in personality. It was a miracle they survived their first year together fully intact. Fulo was such a strong-hearted boy; Obi-Wan had mentored him in Mathematics for a while as well. But that was before Anakin…

The soft pressure of a hand to his brought him out of his thoughts and he turned to find Bant sitting next to him, a soft smile on her lips.

"Come on, Obi! It can't be that embarrassing!"

Thankfully, the Instructor called class to order before Obi-Wan had to answer.

* * *

Classes went by without a hitch in his plan. That is, until he reached Saber classes.

Obi-Wan had always been a little above his age bracket when it came to katas and sparring. But now it was going to take every inch of skill he had to keep those same abilities at bay. Luckily, Master Instructor Reya began each class with an extensive warm up. He used the open time to mediate, using the mechanical actions of his body to dumb down his senses.

In the end all of it was for not, for the dark skinned Nautolan pulled Obi-Wan out halfway through his first fight. He had sensed her eyes on him, analyzing every move he made. Now those same black eyes stared down at him, a furry deep within them. All who met Son Reya spoke of her dedication to mastering the art of combat with a Lightsaber. And all who walked away from her were left with a feeling that perhaps all the years of training had left something not quite right in the head. In his elder years Obi-Wan had learned that the Nautolan was not insane. She simply expected everyone else around her to hold lightstaber play in the same extreme light as she. Of course, in his youth Obi-Wan had been quite terrified of her. She did not speak a word to him, simply barked a command for her padawan to take up teaching the class before she dragged him out into the hallway.

"Instructor Reya wh-" The Jedi swung around mid-word and placed her finger firmly against his forehead.

"I do not think highly of those who take of their lightsaber art with such flippancy, Kenobi." Obi-Wan blinked, forcing his jolted muscles to relax. "Don't give me that startled Bantha look, Initiate. You know what I am speaking off." Reya removed her finger, showing it to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan stared at the finger, and then back up at Reya. "I specifically designed that work out to be extremely difficult for all the races of my students. So tell me how you are blessed to come out of it without even a drop of sweat?"

Obi-Wan's jaw tightened, keeping his face a schooled expression of respect and placidness. It didn't taken him to long to figure out what had happen. In his older form such a work out would have been completed quickly and easily. As it stood that strength did not exist in his twelve-year-old body. So when his mind called upon it, the Force answered.

_How do I expect to survive here if I can't even keep track of my Force input!_

It was simply that he had never had to before. Even in the War when the Separatists began hunting the Jedi, he had simply cut his connection to the Force down to the smallest trickle. But here something that drastic would be picked up upon immediately. Either way, Obi-Wan needed to come up with a good excuse. Reya could be like relentless when she needed to be and the last thing he needed was one of his teachers calling attention to him.

"Perhaps I am just growing use-"

"Follow me." Palming open a door the Nautolan pushed him not so gently in. Instantly Obi-Wan recognized it as one of the smaller sparring rooms opened to the general Jedi. "Practice your katas. All of them. Practice until they are perfected and then practice them more. Perhaps this will teach you the value of exerting yourself in training."

Reya stormed off to the door, palming the lock so that it read 'occupied.'

"You are not to leave this room until I give you permission." Then the door shut. Cursing, Obi-Wan glancing at the glassed in windows of the observation deck. A small Force probe told him they were empty.

 _Fantastic, just what I needed._ Groaning Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber. _Reya's more of a nut then I remembered._ Still, the Nautolan would probably make his punishment last even longer if he didn't do as she said. He rolled his body, cracking his neck, shoulders and knees in one swift move. Might as well get started.

* * *

"Why have you kept him here past your class slot, Son?" Master Windu's moved his glaze from the clock to the Initiate.

Reya hesitated before answering, watching the boy as he moved through his kata's. "He was holding back."

Mace let out a very put upon sigh as he turned to observe the stern Nautolan Master. He was rather fond of Reya but sometimes she took things too far. It seems that another informal conference with her former master would be in order. Lin Dolvan was a clanmate of Mace's and a rather good friend, though he doubted Lin would be pleased to receive yet another call about her over the top padawan.

"Son, we've talked about this." The Nautolan moved to interrupt but a sharp glare from the Councilmember stopped her. "That's hardly a good reason. While your installment of the dedication to saberplay into our young is commendable, it is not advisory to work them to exhaustion. I would have thought you would have learned that after the incident last month."

Again, Reya moved to interrupt but Mace talked over her protests.

"Whether or not you wish to admit it, training and katas are not all that makes a warrior. A Jedi must have a full education on many subjects, not just combat." The icy warning was barely veiled in his voice. "Should you continue this behavior, I will be forced to bring it up with the Council of First Knowledge."

The younger Master was silent, refusing to look at him. Despite her composure he could sense the anger and displeasure rolling off of her. After a moment she regained control of herself and Mace nodded in approval he felt the Force shift around her.

"Master Windu, do you recognize the number of the Shii-Cho kata he's practicing now?" Reya did not take her eyes off Initiate Kenobi, watching the slightly tired yet fluid motion of his steps. Frowning the older Jedi leaned forward and observed quietly for a few moments.

"Fifteen, why?"

The look Reya threw him was oddly triumphant. "I've only taught him up to ten."

"Really now." Mace said quietly as they both turned back to watch the boy as he progressed steadily through the kata. "Isn't that odd."


	4. Painful Wonderings

Obi-Wan's body slid through the katas with a grace and speed that came from years of practice. His body slipped from one to the other with ease, muscles rippling at the moves. For Obi-Wan this was no more than a review. Shii-Cho was the first form ever taught to Initiates and to his body these forms were second nature to walking. For the first time since his arrival Obi-Wan allowed his thoughts to run completely free.

The results were a series of rather painful wonderings.

Ever present on his mind was what to do now. Should he try and save the Jedi? Try and put a stop to what was going to come? Should he go renegade and kill those that needed it before they bloomed into atrocities? Even the thoughts of escaping to Tatooine and awaiting Anakin's birth fluttered across his mind. He could take the boy and give him to the Jedi. Perhaps then the wild boy could be tamed. And always, Obi-Wan vowed, he would be there to make sure the Snake never touched him.

In truth however, Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to do anything. He just kept cycling through the katas, blade flying comfortably around him, thoughts racing. His mind went back to that day. Back to the words Anakin had spoken. In a way, Ani had been correct.

There were…many things wrong with the Jedi.

_We are not Saints but Seekers._

The childhood mantra passed easily through his mind. Obi-Wan wondered what its purpose was. Though nearly every Initiate could repeat it they didn't truly know its meaning.

_We were all too cocky. Proud lap dogs of the Senate, never questioning its corruption until it was too late._

And he was the worst. After all those years of telling Anakin to rein in his unrestrained passion, to cease his arrogance, to never trust a politician, it had been Obi-Wan's arrogance that had destroyed them all.

He should never have trained Anakin. He should have forced Yoda to. The Grand Master would have. Even better…It should not have been Qui-Gon Jinn who died that day. His lightsaber blade shot out with particular force at that truth in that thought. Qui-Gon would have been good for the boy. Obi-Wan had been far too young. Too freshly minted and full of pain too rear Anakin successfully. But, naturally Obi-Wan could not let himself deny his Master his dying wish. And so he had taken the boy.

Even though it pained him that his beloved Master, the same Master he had fought throughout his entire apprenticeship for acceptance, had words only for the boy at the end. Even though he didn't see what his Master did in the boy. Even though every day, as he preached to Anakin about moving on and letting his pain go to the Force, his mind had never left the spot his Master had fallen.

_I was a horrible Master._

Obi-Wan blinked at the thought, his motions slowing. It wasn't a new thought, but for some reason today it held fresh pain and damnation.

_I did it to him. The same thing Qui-Gon did to me. The same thing I swore I'd never do to my apprentice._

Obi-Wan had tried his hardest his entire Mastership to be as good and as just a Master as Qui-Gon Jinn would have been. Until now Obi-Wan hadn't realized just how well he had emulated one aspect of his beloved Master. He had refused Anakin entrance to his heart, the same way his Master had. Just as Xanatos had destroyed any hope of a healthy beginning between them, Naboo had destroyed any hope of Obi-Wan and Anakin having a normal Master-Padawan relationship.

Oh yes, he had loved the boy. More than he could say. In the end he could never have killed Anakin. Perhaps he would have even protected his padawan from the others, if Anakin had only come back to him.

_In the end, in the end._

A part of him recognized how dark and panicked his thoughts were. Until he had come to the past Obi-Wan hadn't really had time to slow down and just think about the events leading up to his death and Anakin's betrayal. Now that he was no longer forced into constant action the Jedi found it was all he could think about. It was a mistake to dwell on it, especially now that Obi-Wan need all his wits about him to try and plan a course of action. But the grief was hard to push away.

Obi-Wan sighed and looked around, slightly surprised to realize he had stopped moving at some point. He rubbed his hand mindlessly against his heart. The ache had returned, each beat pushing the burning sensation echoing across his chest in waves.

_How long have I been in here?_

As if to answer the thought the door chimed open and Son Reya came strolling in, a tray of food in one hand and half a gallon of water in the other. Wordlessly she handed them over and pointed to the door.

"You may leave now." Bowing low Obi-Wan started out, draining the water as he went. A shower sounded wonderful right now. And then maybe a visit to Bant's room. He'd promised the Mon Calamari and the Jedi knew if he didn't show she'd come to him and that would inevitably mean a longer meeting. Obi-Wan stared down at the grey and blue food, eyebrow raised as he sniffed it before rapidly away with a look of distaste on his face.

_I miss my kitchen._

* * *

The visit to the mind healer wasn't a pleasant one for Obi-Wan. He sat in an overly stuffed chair, staring blankly at Mind Healer T'way. Who in turn, stared blankly back at Obi-Wan. Not that the man wasn't trying. His entire body posture screamed 'non-threatening.' Obi-Wan pulled his eyes away from the Healer, focusing instead on the quickly moving stream of traffic outside.

"You really don't want to be here, do you Obi-Wan?" T'way's voice was gentle and friendly. The smile the Mind Healer sent him was soft but edged with concern. Obi-Wan sighed, tugging his cloak sleeves over his hands as he study the tranquil rock and sand garden that took up the majority of the office. The Jedi had never been to see a Mind Healer before and was uncertain how to take T'way. After a moment he sighed and answered.

"No, I don't want to be here."

"No one's forcing you to be here." T'way sank under the glare Obi-Wan sent him. "Yes, the Healers ordered you to come. But I don't want to force you to be here, Initiate. That's not what I'm here for. You may leave, if that's truly what you want."

Obi-Wan watched the humanoid for a moment, searching for any sign of untruthfulness. This was new ground for him. Finding none he nodded swiftly and stood. He had reached the door when T'way called out to him.

"I want to help you, Obi-Wan. If you need me – for anything – just contact me." Obi-Wan turned to stare at him, finding the Healer holding out a small address disk. "Something's happened to you. I can tell that much just by being in the same room as you. But I won't, in fact I refuse, to force you tell me anything. However, if you ever need to talk just let me know."

Obi-Wan stared at the disk, then back up at the Healer. Nodding he took it and shoved it in his pocket. A relieved look flashed across the Healer's face. Mentally Obi-Wan swore.

_I didn't mean to encourage him._

"Anything you say here will be confidential. Not a soul will know what happens in this office."

Obi-Wan smiled, his voice unwillingly mocking as it escaped him. "Within reason of course." The Healer frowned, than nodded.

"Yes, within reason."

And then Obi-Wan left, his steps echoing down the hallway. He didn't need to look behind him to know that the T'way had followed him out; he could feel the Mind Healers dejected gaze all the way to the lift.

* * *

It was the next day that Obi-Wan had his first panic attack.

Honestly he didn't know what caused it or how it ended. But he was thankful to know that it had happened in the privacy of his own room.

He had awoken early, as was his way, and settled to meditate until the lights rose. And then it had come upon him, sending his heart screaming and stomach lurching. All at once Obi-Wan found himself in front of the Jedi Council, clad in clone armor and with blood dripping down his hand, hitting the floor as they stared at him with unforgiving eyes.

' _It's over Master Kenobi. This is the last time we will allow such willful disobedience to pass. We have no choice but to discipline him.'_

_/Drip/_

' _He's my Padawan. He'll listen to me. I can stop this.'_

_/Drip/_

' _We understand your feelings, but there just isn't any time left, Anakin has hopelessly complicated the situation with his pride, the royal family will have nothing to do with him - or the Council. This crisis has become too delicate for him to handle."_

_/Drip/_

' _I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. He's gone too far this time, we cannot overlook this.'_

_Obi-Wan bowed his head, staring at the blood._

_/Drip/_

' _Then allow me to do it.'_

' _Master Kenobi, I don't think that's an entirely wise in your current state-'_

_/Drip/_

' _He is my Padawan! I will handle him!' Obi-Wan snapped. Turning on his feet, he stormed out of the room, blood trailing behind him._

When he came out of it he was staring up at his ceiling, hands pressing down upon his aching heart, the model planes zipping to and fro across his ceiling. Yet Obi-Wan didn't see them, not really. He was still locked in the past. The Jedi could still smell the Council Room, he could still feel the cold drain of blood from his arm, the biting disappointment and overwhelming need to protect his padawan. Obi-Wan felt like vomiting.

_In the end I couldn't do it. I brought him back to the Temple, but what for? I couldn't reach Anakin anymore. If only I had accepted the truth sooner. I damned them all._

It was unknown to him how he'd managed to get dressed and leave his room. Everything was a silver haze, shadows of his past seemed to be everywhere. He saw figures walk by him that did not exist yet. It wasn't until Obi-Wan was standing in the sparring rooms, staring at the other Initiates from his saber class as they were divided into sparring pairs, that he returned fully to the present and his shadows disappeared.

Only then did he stop hearing the voices of the dead.

 _No_ , he corrected as he glanced around the room, _the voices of the damned_.

"Kenobi. How nice of you to join us." Master Reya remarked dryly from behind him, placing her hands firmly on his shoulders she guided him to a spot in front of Bruck Chun.

"Handle these two, I shall Master Reya." Master Yoda hobbled over, poking Obi-Wan in the leg fiercely with his glimmer stick. Letting out a muted howl Obi-Wan rubbed it, staring at the small Master in shock.

_How could I have forgotten how violent that damnable troll was?_

Master Reya eyed Obi-Wan and Bruck distrustfully, her hand tightening on her lightsaber.

"Assure you I do, that properly they will be taught." Yoda's voice held nothing to hint at a rebuke but it was there nevertheless. A soft blush took Son Reya's face as she nodded and strolled away. If it hadn't been for Obi-Wan's diplomatic training he would of missed it all.

Bruck just grinned at him, sneering at him as Yoda led the way to a private sparring room.

"Careful," Obi-Wan warned calmly as he followed Yoda, "It may just stay that way."

* * *

The blade of the lightsaber hissed through the air. Obi-Wan could not see its orange gleam through the blindfold pressing on his eyes, but he did not need to. He used the Force to know precisely when to duck.

Despite that his skills were far superior to Bruck's, Obi-Wan found himself sweating under the blindfold. He was exhausted after the vision. His body was aching to return to bed and his heart pounded in his chest. Each breath was a challenge. What was truly damaging for Obi-Wan was the constant dodging. Unsure of his current strength, he was afraid to fight back against the boy.

Perhaps that's why Bruck almost hit him.

At the last moment the Force screamed for his attention and he somersaulted over the boy's head, thrusting his lightsaber down. He was rewarded with a scream of pain. Obi-Wan stayed where he had landed, blinking at the words that came next.

"That was a lucky blow!"

Obi-Wan could remember this moment. He could remember Bruck saying those very words to him. He could remember this exact moment. How bizarre.

"Bruck," Yoda called calmly. "Leave your blindfold on. A Jedi needs not his eyes to see." Obi-Wan waited for the sound of the blindfold being removed. Seconds later it was thrown to the ground with a slap. Obi-Wan shook his head. Truly bizarre.

"You clumsy oaf!"

"Calm yourself, you will!" Obi-Wan's head turned at the sound of Yoda's voice. It was sharp, a tone he rarely used, but embedded in it was worry. Worry for Bruck Chun's well-being.

The image of Bruck falling over the side of a waterfall assaulted him.

_No, not this time. I'll save him too._

"Come on, Oafy," Bruck taunted, "See if you can hit me again! One last time, before they throw you out of the Temple!"

"Bruck enough!" Yoda admonished with a sigh. Obi-Wan removed his blindfold, recalling the unstable time when Bruck's words had terrified him. "Learn to lose as well as win, a Jedi must. Go to your room, you will."

Obi-Wan stilled. He remembered the words of challenged that he had issued in the past. It had been those words that had allowed a much stupider Obi-Wan to fall into Bruck's clumsy trap and nearly loose his opportunity to fight for Qui-Gon. He could utter those words now, play into the trap later on. Allow time to go as it had…or he could not. He could change time. Change the past. This was a choice Obi-Wan had hoped he would have far more time to think out. In the end though, he was saved that choice.

"To you room Kenobi, you will also go." Bowing low to Yoda he turned to watch Bruck storm out. Truthfully, Obi-Wan was hesitant to leave his old friend. Out of all the times he had wanted the ancient Master's advice, now topped the lists. But what could he possibly say? The Jedi crouched down to pick up the discarded blindfolds, watching the small Master nonchalantly from the corner of his eye. Obi-Wan handed them both to Master Yoda, the Force sending him a soft warning before Yoda's glimmer stick made contact with his knees. With a grunt Obi-Wan found himself on his knees, near eye level with the Master.

"Many secrets you have." The glimmer stick rested dangerously close to Obi-Wan's forehead. "Tell them to me, you will. In time." The small master waddled off towards a holo-lift nearby. "Yes. In time."

Blinking Obi-Wan climbed to his knees and began the long trudge back to his room

The time for the Masters to choose had come so much sooner than he had intended. If he remembered correctly, tomorrow he would be competing for the role of Qui-Gon Jinn's apprentice.

The way he saw it he only had two choices. He could lose to Bruck or win to him. Either way, Qui-Gon Jinn would still not choose him for an apprentice. And this time, Obi-Wan would not be on the ship to Bandomeer. With a sinking heart Obi-Wan realized that this time around, he may not be anyone's apprentice.

_Do I even deserve that right anymore?_

The door to Obi-Wan's room slid open and he sighed in relief as he collapsed onto the bed.

Even if he was offered another Master, he wanted Qui-Gon and no one else. Drying his still damp forehead he was surprised to find the blindfolds still clutched in his hand. Yoda's words flashed across his mind as he stared at the dark things. Sighing, Obi-Wan tossed them to the floor and he rolled over.

_Deranged Gnome._


	5. Questionable Victories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, there are some copy lines (for accuracy with the flashbacks) from the Jedi Apprentice Series and from The Phantom Menace book. For those sections full credit is given to Dave Wolverton, Jude Watson and Patricia C. Wrede. You will find these throughout the chapters of this story.

The time of the fight arrived far sooner than Obi-Wan liked. Bruck stood across from him, a deadly calm look on his face; decked in a full black body armor suit. Obi-Wan stood equally still, outfitted in a replica of Bruck's body armor in brown. It felt eerily like wearing clone trooper armor. Obi-Wan tried not to think about that as the small AJTD6 video droid flew him, his image multiplied by a hundred on a hanging screen above him. He tried to look more nervous, but the image that was displayed was the same placid look that had served him so well in the past.

Even at these last few moments Obi-Wan was unsure of what to do. He was unbelievably nervous, the emotion was making his grip on his lightsaber slack with sweat. What if he made a mistake? What if he could not restrain himself and he fought like he had for the past ten years? Force, what if Obi-Wan had a flashback? He was already wearing armor, what if-

_Stop Kenobi. By the time you're going through all the 'What ifs' the fight will be over._

Obeying the seemingly smarter half of himself, Obi-Wan stepped forward with the call, bowing to Bruck before waiting for the signal to ignite. Taking a deep breath Obi-Wan closed his eyes as he centered himself, bringing the Force to him to sweep away his fears. The Jedi would do what he always had; follow the will of the Force. If the Force wanted him to win this fight, then he would win it. If not, he would lose. Surely he was capable of restraining himself from going all out on a twelve year old boy.

The call was made.

Obi-Wan's eyes opened as Bruck charged him. Igniting his own blade Obi-Wan blocked the furious onslaught, more than slightly surprised by the aggression of Bruck's slashes. For a moment he watched the boy, catching a strike and redirecting it as he watched emotion flash across Bruck's face. Obi-Wan felt himself stumble slightly when he caught the sheer amount of fear that was hidden beneath all the anger.

The realization that Bruck Chun was also riding his entire future upon this fight truly struck him for the first time. Obi-Wan looked upon the situation with fresh eyes. Not with eyes of the past, where this fight had been one of jealous rivalry, but that of a Jedi Master. That moment of weakness was all Bruck needed. Hissing in pain Obi-Wan slashed out quickly as he twisted away, slashing again. Bruck grunted in his own pain as he was caught in both the front and back. The stinging sensation on the front of Obi-Wan's body armor left and he found himself defending again.

Obi-Wan dropped to the floor and made for Bruck's feet. Sensing this Bruck leapt into the air. The more experience Jedi simply readjusted his path, swinging his weight up on his hands and twisting with a kick that caught the boy in the chin, slashing upwards Obi-Wan caught him by surprise. The Force hummed in the back of his mind. Obi-Wan willingly retreated, giving Bruck time to recover. He had to be careful. This fight could not be too easy for him. Already he had felt the light touch of someone's mind. Bruck stared at him with hatred; seemingly sensing that the reason Obi-Wan had backed up was to give him time to recover.

Taking the offensive Obi-Wan charged at Bruck and once again the two were swirling around each other, blade meeting blade. Obi-Wan jumped away with a puff. What the boy did not have in skill, he was making it up with force. His tender twelve year old arms were screaming under the constant effort of meeting the blows.

Yet Obi-Wan monitored his impute of the Force. When blocking became difficult he did not allow himself to call the Force in to take away the pain and make him stronger. This, as had been proven to him, was not the action of a normal semi-trained twelve-year-old. So sweat lined his brow, stinging his eyes as he once again faced off against Bruck. They broke away with tremendous force, each sliding back from each other, eyes never leaving each other.

"Fool." Bruck hissed, too quietly for the AJTD6 which hovered around them to catch. "You should never have agreed to fight me. You can't win."

The smell of burnt skin and hair permeated the area. Both had managed to hit one another, but the touches so far had not been firm strikes – Bruck out lack of skill and Obi-Wan out of calculation. The Masters had decided the fight would be without blindfolds. Bruck's face was close, and his eyes glared at Obi-Wan with hate. The moment stretched, extended.

And Obi-Wan found himself unable to breathe as he stared into the eyes of this frightened, angry little boy. Who, like his Padawan had, was taking the first tentative steps towards the darkened path that would lead to his expulsion from the Order.

So Obi-Wan made his decision. As Bruck charged him once again Obi-Wan simply stepped out of the way and rested his blade inches from the back of Bruck Chun's neck. The pain in Obi-Wan's heart intensified as heard the pitiful gasp, barely audible, that escaped the boy's lips. Master Yoda's call to end the match went unheard. The cheering of the crowd went unheard. The only thing he was aware of was the quivering boy at his side.

Bruck hadn't moved. Obi-Wan hadn't moved. Their lightsabers still blazed in the room. Shutting his down he placed it back on his belt and stared down at the mat.

"If it makes any difference to you, Bruck," Obi-Wan said softly, "He is not taking an Apprentice. Neither you, nor I. I am sorry." Without an answer Bruck stormed off the mat.

He knew that the last thing Bruck wanted was his compassion, but Obi-Wan could only feel pity as they boy disappeared around the bleachers, his friends giving chase. He scanned the area with sad eyes.

Today he had crushed the dreams of a boy.

He knew all too well what that felt like.

* * *

The hot water from the shower in the dressing room stroked his back. Rubbing his hand over his heart in slow, forceful motions Obi-Wan allowed his body to cool down. He had long since finished showering, but the hot water was soothing anyway.

He knew Qui-Gon Jinn had arrived already. He was sitting in the dressing room, waiting for Obi-Wan to emerge. To tell him quite simply that he would not take him as a padawan. The same thing Qui-Gon had said last time. Even though Obi-Wan had fought differently, he knew that the answer would be the same. The pain from Xanatos was still too fresh.

Finally he shut the water off. Padawan or not, Obi-Wan he could not be purposely rude to his former Master by making him wait so long. He had avoided Qui-Gon after the fight, slipping into the private fresher when he knew the older man was seeking him out. Obi-Wan tried his hardest to not repeatedly dry his body off and slowly clad himself in a new uniform. He draped his robe over his arm, running a hand through his spiky hair before he stepped out of the small fresher.

As he had felt, Qui-Gon Jinn sat on a small couch that stretched the dressing room's length. The Jedi Master was in a pose that Obi-Wan knew all too well. He was bent over, elbows resting on his knees, fingers folded together projecting from his body. And his eyes, that intense grey, stared straight at him. For a moment no one spoke and Obi-Wan fought the urge to rub the pain in his chest which had been growing steadily ever since he'd defeated Bruck. But Obi-Wan could not tare his eyes from his Master's face.

_No. Not my Master._

The thought was enough to jolt him back into reality and Obi-Wan turned, walking over to the small vending computer in the corner and typed in an order. The Jedi Master's eyes seemed to burn against his back.

_Force! I'd forgotten how intense he could be!_

A large bottle of water and a small cup of black tea came out. Grabbing hold of both he brought himself to the chair across from Qui-Gon. He placed the tea on the coffee table, sliding it across to Qui-Gon. Leaning back he opened the water and sipped from it. Qui-Gon glanced down at the tea before returning his eyes once again to Obi-Wan.

"How did you know I took my tea black?" The question wasn't demanding. Just curious. Obi-Wan felt a snort rising in his throat. The proper way to take tea had been a constant debate among their years together. Obi-Wan liked his medium with a hint of honey. Qui-Gon, like everything about the man, wanted it pure. But he couldn't tell the Master that.

"You just seemed like a dark tea type of man." A less then brilliant explanation. He could tell Qui-Gon did not believe him.

"Good guess." Qui-Gon said as he sipped his tea. Obi-Wan took a large sip of the water, careful not to spill any on himself. After all these years Obi-Wan still remembered how terribly clumsy he was at this age. "Who taught you to fight like that?"

"What do you mean?" Qui-Gon didn't answer. Obi-Wan could almost hear his former Master's thoughts. _A question for a question._ It had been one of his Master's favorite ways of teaching. Obi-Wan felt a faint thrill of juvenile revenge.

_Not so pleasing when someone does it you, is it?_

Qui-Gon stirred his tea and took another sip. "Why did you end it like you did?"

Obi-Wan leaned back into the chair. Here was the fork. The difference. The change in the past he had created. Obi-Wan took another couple of sips of water, taking his time with each one. He needed time to think, to figure out just how to reply to this. With a sigh he rested the water on his knee. "I…realized I could win. I wanted it to end quickly."

Qui-Gon Jinn leaned back into the couch as if he had heard what he had expected.

"So confident you were in your victory? Arrogance can be a dangerous flaw in a Jedi." Qui-Gon watched his face for a reaction. Obi-Wan could feel the gentle probes to his aura. "The galaxy is filled with dangers, Initiate Kenobi. Dangers much more clever than Bruck Chun. And you won't be wearing a body armor suit to protect you from them. Such confidence could easily be abused, Kenobi."

Obi-Wan stared at the Master. He was confused on how just to take that last sentence. Was he speaking of his 'arrogance' getting him killed or it leading him to the Dark Side? He knew Xanatos had been cocky as all hell…Obi-Wan played with the bottle on his knee, rolling it over his kneecap, enjoying the cold that soaked through his pants. Absent-mindedly he brought his other hand to rub his heart.

"What was I supposed to do? I realized I could win. What should I have done? Toy with him?" Obi-Wan shook his head. "That kind of humiliation would be the cruelest thing I could have done."

Qui-Gon cocked his head ever so slightly to the side. Obi-Wan recognized what that meant. His answer had surprised the Jedi Master. Though Obi-Wan doubted highly that it had enough to impress. But, it was the truth. It was what Obi-Wan had realized when he found himself staring into the enraged eyes so like his Padawan's but not. The Jedi Master finished the last of his tea and stood. Out of habit and respect Obi-Wan stood as well. As Qui-Gon made his way to the door, Obi-Wan followed, setting the water bottle on a nearby table as he pulled his outer robe on.

"I will not take you as my Padawan." Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

_It's alright. This was what you were expecting._

Opening his eyes he took a long sip from the water bottle. Even so, it was hard to hear and to know that for this time, it was for real. This time, there would be no second chance. He realized that Qui-Gon was staring at him, waiting Obi-Wan was sure, for some objection. Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

"I will be thirteen in four weeks." He admitted softly. Qui-Gon Jinn nodded as he folded his hands into his robe.

"It is better not to train a boy to become a Knight if there is the risk he will turn to the dark side." Qui-Gon Jinn said in what Obi-Wan assumed was his best attempt at a gentle voice. Obi-Wan simply nodded.

_Wasn't that the truth._

"I will not turn." Obi-Wan said softly. He bowed before his former Master, the pain so strong now in his heart he almost lost his balance. He rose and offered the Jedi Master a forced smile. "May the Force be with you, Master Jinn."

With that Obi-Wan strolled from the practice room and into the nearest lift. The doors slid shut and the Jedi braced himself against the walls of the lift, trying to edge off the pain that was in his heart. He felt tears pool at the edges of his eyes. His Master would not take him again. It was what he had expected but the thought nearly drove him insane with pain. Even after his Master had discarded him, even after Obi-Wan had failed him with Anakin. After he had failed them all...He realized now, in the depths of some part of his soul, that regardless of how it would mostly likely only complicate things, he had truly hoped his Master would take him as his Padawan.

Slamming his palm against the button that stopped the lift he rested his head against the side. His breaths quick and heavy. Painfully so. His heart was screaming, spiking pains running up and down his chest. Obi-Wan found himself sliding down until he was crouched in front of the wall, his head resting against it for balance. A sudden heat overtook him, flushing his face and the back of his hands immediately. Opening his eyes Obi-Wan found himself assaulted with a vision of red.

_The laser wall separated Obi-Wan from his Master. Obi-Wan stood tense, every muscle in his body screaming for the wall to shut off. The heat of it licked out against his face and the back of his hands. But the Padawan did not notice. All his thoughts, his entire soul were focused on the battle in front of him._

Please Master! Just hold on! I'll be there soon!

_Obi-Wan cursed himself for not being faster. He should have sensed the laser walls reconfiguring and sped up accordingly with the Force. His eyes watched every move of his Master. Qui-Gon was faring well, but the Sith was ruthless and he could tell his Master was tiring_

_As he watched a cold chill took Obi-Wan. For an instant, Qui-Gon's opponent seemed to be wearing a black helmet._

This is wrong! That should be me out there, not Qui-Gon!

_Obi-Wan shook his head. His Master's opponent was wearing no helmet. His Master was fighting fiercer then Obi-Wan had ever seen before. He glared at the laser walls._

Won't these things ever come down again?

_Qui-Gon blocked one stroke of the Sith lord and parried another. The Sith Lord blocked the Master's attack and then reversed it, slamming it's lightsaber into Qui-Gon's chin. Qui-Gon staggered backwards, half-dazed from the force of the unexpected blow. The Sith Lord let out a chilling grin and reversed his lightsaber, thrusting it through Qui-Gon._

" _No!" The grief that tore through Obi-Wan was like nothing he had ever felt before. On the other side of the training link his Master's mind erupted in pain. Obi-Wan heart felt like it was breaking._

_But then the laser walls deactivated. And then there was more time for thinking._

* * *

"He did not take him as a Padawan." Mace Windu said as he watched Qui-Gon Jinn disappear into the giant Star Map Room. Master Yoda said nothing, simply watched the Master go.

"In the Force...a great shift there has been." Yoda said softly, leaning on his glimmer stick in thought. "A great change there has been in Kenobi. Gone his anger is. Replaced by much sorrow." Master Windu sighed, rubbing his forehead. Grief, sorrow. These things were just as dangerous as anger.

"What could have caused the boy sorrow?"

"Finally found the right question you have." Master Yoda hobbled off towards the Star Map Room entrance. "Qui-Gon's apprentice, Obi-Wan is meant to be. Tell me this, the Force does. Follow its will I always have. Guide us now still, it does." The ancient Master stood at the door for a moment. "Send Obi-Wan to Bandomeer. Assigned to the Agricultural corps he will be."

"What assurances do you have that Jinn will take him on as an Apprentice? After Xanatos…" Windu's voice faded at the twitch in Yoda's ears.

"Shown me this, the Force has." Yoda sighed. "If fool, Jinn continues to be the interest of others Kenobi has won."

"Someone else? Who?" But the Star Map Room door had already hissed shut.

Master Windu allowed himself a flat look. Sometimes he could swear that little Troll enjoyed his mysteries. It was dangerous game Yoda was playing though. In Mace's opinion the stakes were too high. But then again, Master Windu also had to admit that he hadn't even the beginning of the understanding of the Force that the Grand Master had.

He knew one thing for sure. His old friend wasn't going to be happy about the Troll tormenting him. There was a soft crinkling sound as Mace pulled out a small candy and popped it in his mouth. Deciding to washing his hands of this mess at least momentarily, Mace walked away. He had other business to attend to.

* * *

The first thought that came to Obi-Wan's mind when he returned was that he was lying on his back. And that his legs were bent against that wall in an extremely uncomfortable angle. The second thing was that he had thrown up. Taking a sip of water he rinsed his mouth out and spit it next to the vomit. At least this time he had managed to miss himself.

Obi-Wan stood slowly, wincing as the world around him spun widely. He reached out to the lift activation buttons, sending it once again upon its way. He activated the cleaning program and a small trey detached itself from one of the sides. Three small robots parted from and it went to work. Obi-Wan tried hard not to look at how quickly the little silver things were moving.

He took another swig of water in an attempt to calm his stomach. The doors opened and Obi-Wan stepped cautiously over the busily working machines. He rubbed his head as he made his way to his room, ignoring the looks he was getting from the few students around.

The Jedi palmed open his door and wasn't surprised to find his comm. blinking red. Finally it seemed he'd know his future. Ignoring the comm. Obi-Wan decided he'd rather clean up. He could admit openly that he was frightened of what the report would say. For him, any future without Qui-Gon in it, without the Jedi in it, was no future at all. How was he to set things right if he was grounded before he could even begin?

Heading towards the bathroom Obi-Wan took one look at his pale reflection and decided that he needed to get some food in his body before he dropped dead.

It took him a moment to recall where his secret stash of snacks were hidden. He sat down on the bed and ate the chocolate bar slowly, allowing the rich taste to calm him. When Obi-Wan was finished he changed his outer tunic and brushed his teeth. He winced as he scrubbed at them harshly. All of this throwing up could not be good for his dental hygiene.

_At this point I'm going to rot my teeth away._

Finally content with his image Obi-Wan stood before the comm. unit, his fingers inches from the button. Whatever this message held was his fate. With a sigh he pressed it. He was never one for suspense.

Obi-Wan blinked in surprise as the orders printed themselves out. As he read through them he felt his legs nearly give out on him. He was to report to _The Monument_ as soon as his bags were packed. He was being sent to the Agricultural Corps on Bandomeer.


	6. Not Like This

_The Monument_ was an old Corellian barge, pocked and scarred from meteor hits. It was shaped like a crate, and attached to the front of it were a dozen cargo boxes it would push to Bandomeer. It was the ugliest, dirtiest ship that Obi-Wan could have imagined. And if the exterior was ugly, the interior was foul. Its battered corridors smelled of miners' dust and the sweaty bodies of many species. Repair ports were left open, so that wires and pressure hoses – the ship's guts – spilled out as if from an open wound.

Obi-Wan took a deep whiff and fought the smile that came to his lips. He'd never smelled anything so wonderful. It was still beyond his thinking how it is he managed to arrive here. It must have been the will of the Force, though Obi-Wan couldn't understand why it would give this second opportunity. He traveled silently down the hall, ignoring the various creatures as he walked along. The Jedi's mind was alive with thoughts. He was going to see Clat'Ha again. But what he was really looking forward to was seeing Si Treemba. He had never, much to the Jedi's regret, kept in contact with the young Arconan that had befriended him in his hour of need and self-doubt. He walked slowly through the halls, making sure that this time he would not get lost. Upon his first true arrival on the ship he had wandered into the Offworld territory of the ship, which was run by Hutts and Whiphids. A rather irritated Hutt had punched Obi-Wan into two days of pain. The ship was seemingly divided in two.

Offworld was one of the oldest and richest mining companies of its time in the galaxy. And they hadn't gotten that way by legal means. On the outer rim worlds the majority of their workers were slaves or indentured servants pressured into signing a lengthy contract. Rival mining companies that faced them tended to die off…or have a great catastrophe that allowed them to be bought out.

With a twinge of regret he remembered Varristad. Varristad was a small planet where Offworld and another mining firm were working. Varristad was without air, so the workers all lived in a huge underground dome. Someone or something popped a hole in that dome, instantly destroying the artificial atmosphere and killing a quarter of a million people. No one was ever able to prove that Offworld did it, but when the other company went bankrupt, Offworld bought the mineral rights for practically nothing.

The leader of that group was Xanatos, Qui-Gon's second apprentice, the one that had betrayed his former Master for the wealth of his father.

_And made my first few Padawan years hell in the process._

Luckily, Obi-Wan doubted he'd have to deal with Xanatos' presence just yet. The biggest problem on this ship was Jemba, a huge Hutt that was in charge of the Bandomeer operation. Coincidentally, Jemba also had been in charge of the Varristad chapter for a while.

_Even in my youth I never had very much luck._

The other side, the side Obi-Wan was to work with, was the Arcona Mineral Harvest Corporation. Arcona was a small, start-up firm hoping to work out of Bandomeer. They employed mainly Humans and Arconans. They seemingly worked with a clean slate, though Obi-Wan knew from experience that no organization was without its flaws. Their leaders consisted of a Board of Directors but the leader of this small expedition was Clat'Ha, a vibrant Human woman who believed in her company's mission fiercely. He could still vaguely picture her face in his mind.

The relationship between the two companies was almost non-existent. There was a virtual war going on between the two. It wasn't long before Obi-Wan had found a crewmember. The Human mechanic cheerfully led him to his cabin and told him to stay in it until he knew the ship better. He didn't want to be running into any Hutts now. Obi-Wan nearly choked as the irony of the statement kicked in.

_Irony seems to be the only constant in my life lately._

His cabin was small, containing a sleep couch against a window, a small table and chair and a tiny refresher unit. Sitting on his bed Obi-Wan allowed himself to fall into a meditated state. He needed to prepare, to think of what he would do on Bandomeer.

Obi-Wan desperately wanted to be Qui-Gon's Padawan once again, but he was hesitant to try and sway Qui-Gon to that course himself. If the Force truly wanted him to be with his Master again, then he would be. And if not…if not…he would see where the Force guided him. Perhaps he would go to Tantoone and free Shimi, wait by her side until Anakin was born. Then whisk the boy off to the Jedi Temple. Or hide them away on a far distant backwater planet.

The Jedi sighed as he thought further on. What if he did become Qui-Gon's Padawan again? How was he even to start to pull apart the Sith's claws from this world? Their entire existence depended on their ability to stay hidden. And they were damned good at it. Xanatos would have to die. That was a must. Obi-Wan could ill afford Xanatos and Palpatine working together. But an even greater problem loomed in his mind. Even if he managed to get solid proof of the Sith's existence, and that in itself was a major if, how was he to expose them? At this point he wasn't even clear of how many there were!

 _How will I convince the Jedi of this?_ For a horrible moment Obi-Wan could see himself standing before the Jedi Council, hearing their disbelieving words condemning themselves. That he would bear witness to a second fall of the Jedi. He shook his head. _No. I won't allow it to come to that. Not this time._

They would have to believe him. Anakin wasn't a necessary to the downfall of the Jedi. Yes, he had aided Palpatine strongly, but Palpatine could easily find another child who felt lost and train them. After all…he had Darth Maul did he not?

_Anakin was so strong in the Force…_

The ache in his heart made itself known again and Obi-Wan took deep breaths, trying to calm and slow his heartbeats in hope that would settle the pain. The Jedi had counted on the Republic too much. They served it blindly. He knew that some of the older generations had felt that the Jedi had become too closely matched to the Senate, especially after the Clone Army had become the official army of the Republic. And the Jedi became its Generals.

It was such a complicated issue. So many different problems to isolate and divulge. So many different paths to examine. So many different things he could do with this extra time granted to him. So busy was his mind that Obi-Wan almost missed the slight stress in the Force. The gentle disturbance that whispered silently of unrest on the ship.

* * *

The sight that met Obi-Wan's eyes screamed of conflict. Qui-Gon stood near Clat'Ha, his entire posture radiating calmness as he tried to disarm the situation. The Human woman's hand quivered against the handle of her blaster.

"Excuse me, Jemba," Clat'Ha said in mock politeness. "But it's not unreasonable to hate a lying, scheming, cowardly murderer." Jemba's eyes widened as his entire body puffed out in indignation.

"We have not even reached Bandomeer," Jemba boomed, "and this woman tries to discredit me before the mining guild. Now she tries to frame me! Listen to how she talks to me. There is not respect in her voice!"

"I may not respect you, Jemba," Clat'Ha spat back, "but I certainly didn't frame you. Your lies are as pathetic as your denials."

Obi-Wan saw the strike before it happened. The muscles of the Hutt constricted as he shot forward menacingly. With a cry Clat'Ha drew her blaster. In an incredibly brave act Qui-Gon thrust himself between the charging Hutt and armed woman. The Force filled the room quickly, carrying the ever-strong will of Qui-Gon Jinn with it.

"Enough!" And miraculously they listened. The Hutt ceased mid-charge and Clat'Ha lowered her blaster. The Jedi Master shot her a look. Rolling her eyes the woman slip the blaster back into the leg holster.

"Now," Qui-Gon began in a reasonable tone, "let us review the situation. The machines were sabotaged. Yet both of you insist you did not do it. There is nowhere to take this except open warfare." The Master looked at each of them in turn. "And that is something that neither of you wish for, I'm sure."

"Jedi," Jemba growled, "you think yourself to be a fair man. But when Hutts and Humans argue, even the fairest of men join sides against my kind."

Obi-Wan's brow furled as he watched Jemba argue. He could still remember when he thought Jemba the evilest thing he had ever encountered. Of course, that was because Jemba had been the evilest thing he'd ever encountered, at the time. It was the first evil he had come into contact out of the safety and padding of the Temple.

It struck him odd now, as he stared at the Hutt. Obi-Wan had seen many terrible things in his years as a field agent. Many terrible things. But for some reason, he could still remember the anger and solid feeling of wrongness he had first felt against this Hutt. Now, as he watched the argument, the Jedi felt a strange longing towards the Hutt. He wished dearly that he could be back in those days, when a murderous Hutt was the greatest evil he had ever known. Once again Obi-Wan found himself longing for the innocence of his childhood.

_Ungrateful twit. It's not like you didn't get to experience it the first time._

Obi-Wan chewed on his bottom lip in thought. He wondered how healthy it was that he talked to himself as much as he did. It wasn't until he caught movement out of the corner of his eye did the Jedi realize that the argument had ended. Clat'Ha made her way over to him, a broad smile on her face.

"You must be Kenobi, the young Jedi. Welcome aboard." Smiling Obi-Wan took the extended hand, almost wincing as she shook it powerfully. "I trust you found your room alright?"

"One of your mechanics led me." Obi-Wan admitted with a smile. "Seems like you have a war going on here." Clat'Ha let out a disgusted grunt and crossed her arms.

"Well there was going to be one if it wasn't for Master Jinn here." Clat'Ha sent the approaching Jedi a brilliant smile. "I apologize if I wasn't helping, but I'm afraid I get worked up when I hate things."

Qui-Gon dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand. "Quite all right."

Obi-Wan chuckled before another movement caught his eye. Hidden in a nook of the corridor stood a very familiar Arconan stood there, his eyes flashing to and fro nervously. As if feeling the weight of his eyes Si Treemba looked up. With a small squeak he fled the area. Obi-Wan let out a sigh. Apparently since he did not allow himself to be punched by a Hutt he and the young Arconan may not meet.

"Don't feel bad. I'm sure you didn't do anything but give him a little scare." Clat'Ha assured Obi-Wan gently. "Arconan's are a flighty race. They aren't really one for confrontations of any kind." Obi-Wan nodded and turned back to look at the two.

"What happened to start the argument?"

"Jemba stole our thermocoms and sabotaged our coring couplers." Clat'Ha said in a tired voice, sending a glare in the directing that the Hutt had slid off. Realizing that there was probably no possible way that a twelve-year-old boy would know what thermocoms or coring couplers were he promptly asked.

"The thermocoms are used to monitor Arconan tunnelers. Tunnelers are vehicles that drill through rock and soil. As they do, the friction of the hull moving past all that stone makes the vehicle very hot." Qui-Gon explained. "Without the thermocoms, the cooling system would not work. And with the coring couplers sabotaged, the driver of the tunneler would not be able to shut it off."

"So the machine would melt." Obi-Wan finished, "Killing everyone inside it." Grimly Clat'Ha nodded.

"They're clever beasts I'll give them that." Sighing Clat'Ha rubbed her forehead. "I have to go report this to Head Base, Obi-Wan do you think you could show Qui-Gon to his cabin? It should be next to yours." Obi-Wan nodded and watched the weary woman walk off, muttering to herself under her breath.

"This way, Master Jinn." Obi-Wan turned and led the Master back down the hallway. "What do you take off the situation?" Qui-Gon frowned and crossed his arms, his hands disappearing in the deep sleeves of his robe.

"There are many different things that could be true," Qui-Gon said as he walked, keeping his eyes focused on the hall in front of them. "Jemba could have arranged it. It may very well be that Clat'Ha is indeed be trying to frame Jemba. Or it could be some over stimulated workers on either side. But that, Obi-Wan," the Jedi stopped walking and turned to face Obi-Wan, a stern look on his face, "is not any of your concern. Do not get involved with this."

_Ouch._

"Do not worry, Master Jinn, I will do my best to stay uninvolved." Obi-Wan ignored the suspicious stare that followed him and led the Master to his room. Bowing he excused himself and disappeared into his own. With a small leap the younger Jedi sprawled over his bed, choosing not to question the odd scent of his bed cloths.

He'd forgotten how cold his former Master could truly be if he wanted to. A yawn escaped his lips and Obi-Wan flipped onto his back, kicking off his boots and pulling the heavy comforter over himself. Reaching out with the Force Obi-Wan dimmed the room. He yawned again, snuggling into the warmth.

_It's a start. At least it's a start._

* * *

Qui-Gon swung his legs over his sleep-couch. He felt his heart pound in his chest, every muscle on alert. But why?

He had been resting when he had sensed it. It felt as though danger was near, but Qui-Gon was not in danger…and then he recognized the feeling. He had experienced it before. Jedi could sometimes sense when another Jedi, one that was close to them, was in trouble. At times they can even see a vague picture of what that trouble might be. Qui-Gon searched his mind, but did not see anything clear. Only haze.

"Obi-Wan." He murmured. It had to be the boy. Qui-Gon fought against the feeling. It was ridiculous, absurd. The boy was not his padawan. Why would there be such a strong connection between them?

Yet there was. Yoda would be pleased.

Qui-Gon groaned. He was not.

The boy had proven himself an enigma to Qui-Gon and he wasn't particularly fond of mysteries. The pull he had felt towards the boy since he had first seen him fight had not gone away. Instead it lingered, the smallest thread of connection to which the Jedi attributed the feeling of danger. And Qui-Gon did not like it at all.

He had felt this way before towards another boy and that boy had betrayed in him. Had fallen to the dark side. Qui-Gon felt his resolve strengthen as he thought of Xanatos. He refused to experience that pain again. Still, even has he calmed his breathing the feeling of danger and fear did not pass. The Master sighed as he laid back down onto the sleep-couch. But this time, although he could quiet his body, he could not quiet his mind. With a sigh Qui-Gon gave in, gathering the Force around him and sending it out in a gentle probe. It found Obi-Wan still in his room, but the Force also brought back whispering of the boy's distress.

The boy was having a nightmare.

Frowning, Qui-Gon stared up at the ceiling of his room. A nightmare was nothing for him to get this upset about. So why did he fell like Obi-Wan was in peril?

* * *

Sweat lined Obi-Wan's brow and his tangled limbs struggled violently in the confines of the comforter. His breath was quick, his chest heaving with the effort to keep up. His eyes moved back in forward rapidly, giving his drawn, white face a sinister look.

After a moment, Obi-Wan awoke with a gasp. He struggled from the comforter, falling against the floor in the process. He laid against the metal, the cold easily seeping through the weak rug that was placed over it as he panted. The Jedi forced himself up and into the fresher, gulping down water with ragged breaths from the faucet there.

He fought to calm himself, focusing on the cool water flowing down his throat instead of the ripping sensation in his chest and the memories that threatened to overtake him. After a few more sips Obi-Wan felt a little more steady and washed his face and neck with cold water. The shaken Jedi forced himself to take steadying breaths until he felt like he had sine semblances of control.

_Just a dream. It hasn't happened yet, you're alive. Just a dream._

Obi-Wan turned back to his room and shook his head. This place was too confining. He couldn't stay here. Not now. He needed to walk, move, anything to keep his mind occupied. Pulling his robe on Obi-Wan quickly reattached his lightsaber and escaped the small room.

* * *

"Couldn't sleep?" Clat'Ha asked as she seated herself next to the brooding Jedi Master.

"No." Qui-Gon said darkly as he sipped his drink.

"You look tense."

"That's because I am." He snapped. Qui-Gon sighed when he saw the look on Clat'Ha's face. "I'm sorry, Clat'Ha, I'm just not in the best of moods right now. I apologize for having taken it out on you."

"It's alright, Jinn. I'm afraid I understand your pain all too well." She flicked her finger towards the menu and ordered herself a rather stiff drink. Qui-Gon rose an eyebrow. The call to Head Base must not have been a pleasant one. Noticing his look Clat'Ha finished the drink off.

"They weren't too happy about this situation back at HQ." Qui-Gon nodded in sympathy as she ordered another drink. He stared down at his own.

He couldn't get Obi-Wan out of his mind. Though the panic had left once he had found it to be a simple nightmare, he still found himself with the slightest urge to go check on the boy. Qui-Gon stomped that urge out. It was unreasonable! How could he possibly have a bond with the boy? He'd known him all of two days! Images of Xanatos flashed through his mind.

 _No,_ Qui-Gon insisted, _I am not shrugging the boy off unfairly._ Obi-Wan was too arrogant. He could fall. Nodding to himself with particular conviction he finished the drink. It would be good for Obi-Wan, to be a farmer. It would teach him some humility.

Why did this boy plague his thoughts! He should be concentrating on the issue at hand, not whether or not farming was be best for Obi-Wan Kenobi! But alas, even as he was centering his mind on the mission he felt a familiar Force signature approaching. Qui-Gon let out something that could closely resemble a growl. Could he find no peace from this child?

As if on cue, the galley doors opened to reveal Obi-Wan. The boy took one look around, spotted him and Clat'Ha and immediately slammed his hand out. The doors hissed shut. Qui-Gon blinked. Whatever he had been expecting, that had not been it.

"Is Obi-Wan alright?" Clat'Ha asked quietly from beside him. Qui-Gon shrugged, staring at the door thoughtfully. Had the boy just…run from him? "He didn't look alright." Clat'Ha continued, stirring her drink. "In fact he looked terrible."

The feeling from before began to seep back into his mind with renewed force and Qui-Gon frowned, staring at the closed door.

* * *

Obi-Wan hurried along, hoping to put as much distance between himself and the galley. He had known through the Force that Qui-Gon had been in there, but seeing both the irritated Jedi Master and an angry Clat'Ha had been too much for him.

_The last thing I want to deal with is explaining myself to Qui-Gon Jinn._

Obi-Wan stopped to catch his breath, leaning against the wall. He tried to center his breathing; it was coming far too quickly for his tastes. It didn't help that once again his heart was on fire. In the back of his mind the dream ran itself over and over again. Once again he had been on that planet. And the lava was around him. And his Padawan was standing against him.

_Please! Calm down!_

Almost as if it had heard him the burning sensation began to leave him. Obi-Wan's hand lessened its grip on his tunic and the Jedi closed his eyes, trying once again to bring his breathing to an even level. Somehow, he had ended up on the floor, the cold metal comfortable on his heated skin. Beads of sweat rolled down from his damp hair, leaving a temporary trail of coolness in their wake.

_This can't go on._

Somehow, someway, he was going to have to find out how to make this pain stop. Or at least make it lessen. Obi-Wan pulled himself up and groaned. Only to be thrown back again as the shipped rock dangerously.

_What?_

The Force was screaming warnings at him as Obi-Wan sprinted to the nearest viewing window. He let out a gasp at what he saw.

_The Pirates! How could I have forgotten the bloody Pirates!_

Cursing himself in nearly every language he knew, Obi-Wan watched helplessly as the Pirates drew closer to the ship. They were Togorains. Beasts that were nearly twice the size of a normal man. Obi-Wan started the cursing train all over again. Dealing with Togorains was difficult, even for a seasoned Jedi. The eruption of small blasters from his left meant one thing.

The Pirates had boarded.

Drawing his lightsaber Obi-Wan headed towards the sound at a dead run.

With the Force aiding his speed Obi-Wan reached the Togorain boarding party within a few moments. A scream of battle escaped his mouth as he leapt into the fray, lightsaber igniting brilliantly. He somersaulted as he flew through the air, Force pulling a Togorain away from the cornered group of Arconans. The Jedi landed lightly at their feet, his back foot sliding back into a defensive position.

The soft whines of the Arconan's picked up in volume as the now recovered Togorain charged. With a quick slash Obi-Wan brought the Togorain down, only to stare at the ever growing number of them coming through the port way. The Jedi braced himself for a hard fight, he dropped any pretense of childhood and adopted the mannerisms of his adult life. His body twisted itself into a familiar stance that Obi-Wan would not be learning for another few years. Soresu, the fighting style he had all but mastered. He opened his mind to the Force, allowing it to swamp his mind with warnings.

A low bellow filled the air as a lone Togorain charged Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan ducked the blow of its axe and dipped under the beast's arms. The Togorain whipped around angrily, raising its axe high in the air for a second strike. Obi-Wan leapt backwards easily missing its first attempt and just nearly its second. He slashed out rapidly as he shot back, the axe only just missing his head. The Togorain let out a scream as it fell backwards, shallow cuts on both its kneecaps. With a quick motion the Pirate was decapitated.

The whine of the Arconan's increased and Obi-Wan's head shot up. A Togorain was making its way towards them, a triple headed axe looming dangerously at its side. A quick motion of his hand sent a pile of debris at the thing's head. It swung around, a sneer on its face.

Obi-Wan motioned for it with his lightsaber and fell back into a lower fighting stance. The Togorain charged him. Once again Obi-Wan used his height as advantage and evaded the Pirates erratic swings. The floor exploded to Obi-Wan's left and the Pirate let out a scream as electrical jolts shot up from the floor. He had managed to pierce the protective cables around the ship's wires.

Obi-Wan threw himself back from the smoking Togorain. The Pirate slumped silently, the lights flickering before going out completely. The only light in the room was brought about by the soft blue of his lightsaber. Obi-Wan stared at the Togorains. They stared back at him. Sweat rolled down his forehead. The Jedi didn't know why they had stopped but he took this moment to collect himself. His body felt like it was on fire.

His grip on his lightsaber was slick and his clothes stuck to him like a second skin. This was not what he needed. Obi-Wan's entire body screamed of exhaustion, the memory of the pain in his heart still hovering in his chest.

_What are they waiting for?_

A grinding sound filled his ears and Obi-Wan glared into the darkness, trying to peer behind the line of Togorains that stared at him hatefully.

"I have a bad feeling about this." He muttered, readjusting his grip on his Lightsaber. Obi-Wan's eyes widened slightly as the Togorains pulled apart, making a path. Two came into his view, one gigantic even by Togorain standards, the others very short, almost to Qui-Gon's height. Obi-Wan felt dread fill himself as the two drew their weapons. Obi-Wan shot a glance at the frightened Arconans behind him. Then back at the Togorains.

They had both activated energy shields. Obi-Wan swallowed.

_This is not good._

* * *

Qui-Gon froze mid battle, his eyes widening as the feeling from before, intensified a hundred fold, filled his mind. Clat'Ha pulled him out of the way as the Togorain's axe descended.

_Obi-Wan!_

"Pay attention!" She snapped. The warning in Qui-Gon's mind still distracted him, but he was able to avoid the next strike by the Togorain. With a swift backslash he caught the Pirate at unawares and killed it. "What's wrong?" Clat'Ha screamed over the blaster fire.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon shouted back, ducking behind a crate as the blaster fire began to intensify. "I must go to him!"

"I can't hold them alone!" Clat'Ha shouted back, her blaster held above her head and firing in random directions.

"I know!"

"Are you suggestion we _run away_?" Clat'Ha stopped firing and stared at him. The anxiety in his mind kicked itself up a notch.

"I have to go, Clat'Ha! He's in trouble!" Qui-Gon's voice was strong with conviction. Kenobi was not his padawan, but he'd be damned if he allowed the boy to die on his watch. Clat'Ha let out a curse as she fired once more.

"Cover me!" The relief was almost visible on his features as Clat'Ha backed up towards the door, the quick movement of Qui-Gon's lightsaber protecting her retreat.

* * *

There was little warning before the two Togorains broke into charge, their roars echoing painfully in his ears. Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber in defense but was taken aback as the Togorain charged him stopped dead. The Smaller One leapt in front of him, taking up his charge. Obi-Wan charged forward to meet him only to stop midway as the Smaller One hit the deck and the Taller One's blaster erupted into fire.

The whine of the Arconan's turned into a scream as one of the blaster bolts managed to get past him, burning a hole shortly before the group. In his attempt to fend off the bolts Obi-Wan had lost tract of the Smaller One in the dark, barely managing to duck as the Smaller One's axe leapt out. Obi-Wan rolled out of the way, the blaster bolts erupting before him. The Jedi somersaulted into a jump, slashing out at the Taller One's blaster as he went. The Taller One screamed and dropped the hissing blaster, the Smaller One was already half way to Obi-Wan as he landed. He barely managed to pull out of the way as the thing's double axe swiped at him.

Obi-Wan let out a scream as a blaster bolt ripped through his calf and he stumbled backwards, his lightsaber flying from his hands as he gripped his leg. The Taller One had received a new blaster. The Smaller One stood over him, a sneer on its hairy face.

"Now you die, Jedi."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, fighting the pain from his calf and the heat of the fever that ravaged his body.

_Not like this!_

* * *

_Not like this!_

Qui-Gon almost stumbled as the words filtered across his mind. The sense of dread grew in his chest and he increased his Force sprint. Clat'Ha was a strong woman, she could protect herself. Qui-Gon sped even quicker through the darkened hallways, the Force allowing him to see in the dark in a way no Human could. Qui-Gon almost sighed in relief as he saw his destination; a soft blue light emitting from one of the rooms.

The feeling of relief died instantly upon entering the room. The bodies of Arconan littered the room. One was still alive, a small Togorain standing over it, a sneer on its face, Obi-Wan's lightsaber in its hand and raised for kill. Qui-Gon called the Force, ripping the Lightsaber form the Togorain and whipped his own out in a vertical chop, easily taking the Pirate's life. The Togorain's body stumbled backwards.

"Run!" The Arconan did not need to hear his command twice. He fled from the room with a speed that he had rarely seen their race use. With a low buzz the lights flickered on and red as an alarm filled the room. The port way the Togorains had rigged open was closing. With a cry the remaining Togorain's retreated towards it. Qui-Gon reached it as it sealed with a hiss, nearly running into it as he skidded to a stop.

The Jedi Master stared at the sealed door helplessly.

_Where was Obi-Wan?_

"Qui-Gon!" Chat'Ha cry filled the room. Glancing around the room he located the source of the noise. Palming the calm unit on Chat'Ha's tiny figure filled the room. "Get to the bridge now!"

* * *

Obi-Wan came to with a scream, his entire body shaking as pain radiated from his ribs.

"That was your first rib Human." The Togorain growled. The skull that dangled from his neck almost touched Obi-Wan's chin. "And this is your second." This time Obi-Wan was able to keep the cry in, jerking widely as the handle of the it's war axe slammed down.

The Togorain laughed.

Obi-Wan sighed as the grey spots grew larger. Really, he had the worst luck. Unconsciousness encroached in response to the pain and the only thing the Jedi could think of was how utterly useless he, a General, seemed to have become.

"No you don't." With a sharp jerk Obi-Wan was hanging vertically, the Togorain's hand gripping his jaw. Streaks of white shot up Obi-Wan's vision. The sharp pain banishing any hopes of passing out. "Your Master is putting up quite a fight baby Jedi." The Togorain snarled. "But I have killed your kind before. I will not fail this time."

Dropping his hand down the Togorain dragged the struggling Obi-Wan behind him.

Obi-Wan fought to focus himself, to get his mind to focus on calling the Force to his aid, but the lack of air and pain was keeping him from making a clear connection. With a gasp the hold on his neck was released and retaken on his hair. A thumb jammed painfully into the back of Obi-Wan's neck and then he was let go, his head smacking onto the floor loudly. Obi-Wan laid still, fighting to make himself ignore the jolting pain from the broken ribs and burnt calf and take the deep breathes he knew was necessary to calm his battered body. His fever was raging full bloom now, though he was having a hard time telling it apart from the other pain.

"Boy." The Togorain growled, his face coming close to his own. "Try to move." Obi-Wan blinked stared at him distrustfully, then tried to wiggle his fingers. They didn't respond. Panic assaulted his mind as he tried to move again, this time his leg. Then his arm. Then his big toe. Nothing was responding. The panic grew.

_Stop that! Stop panicking for Force sake and think!_

"Calm down, boy. It'll wear off in a few hours. Until then be a good boy and keep quiet." Obi-Wan gasped as the Pirate's cloak covered him, almost making him choke on its heavy scent.

The floor vibrated with the heavy step of the Pirates. Obi-Wan fought to keep his breath even, taking measures to calm down. He had to regain his center. With that, he could find his way out of anything. He had been paralyzed by a pressure point. He had to concentrate on using the Force to battle his fever and take his pain away. Once the fever was under control, Obi-Wan knew he could regain the upper hand. He had barely begun when a yell started him out of his meditation.

"Why have you hailed us?" The voice of Clat'Ha echoed across the Comm. with the force of a slap. "If you think we will surrender you are sorely mistaken."

"I will speak only with the Jedi." The Togorain said harshly. "And certainly not with a fool woman." Obi-Wan wasn't sure but he could have sworn that Clat'Ha had just growled. A silence prevailed for a few moments. And then Clat'Ha's voice reappeared.

"The Jedi," Clat'Ha hissed, "will not allow you to get away with this."

"We fear no Jedi. Besides," The Space Pirate said confidently, "we have jammed your signal. No help will come for you. Your little blockade will not work. Blast doors only work for so long."

"Don't you dare think you have us beaten you little-" The voice was cut off and the Togorains chuckled. Obi-Wan breathing had finally become calmer, but it was still far too shallow for his liking. The pain from his ribs were preventing him from doing much. He began to refocus the Force, only to lose it again when a familiar voice echoed calmly across the room.

"I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Who am I speaking to?"

The Togorain voice was full of self-pleasure and mirth. "I knew you would come before me, Jedi." Qui-Gon did not answer. "I am Captain Yuma. And this ship is mine."

"You have yet to take it." Qui-Gon answered in a low voice.

"Of little matter," The Captain replied. "I will have it soon." The silence filled the room. Obi-Wan itched to know what was going on.

"What have you done with the boy?" Qui-Gon's voice was curt and irritated; a tone Obi-Wan rarely heard him use.

"You mean this one?" The cloak was torn from him and a Togorain held him up by the collar of his robes. Obi-Wan fought to be able to bring himself to look up at the screen. It proved in vain though and his body continued to lay bonelessly until a rough jerk on his hair brought his eyes to look at the screen.

He felt the Force brush his mind and the Jedi did not fight the flow of pleasure at the long forgotten touch of his Master's mind.

* * *

It had been an alarming instinctual action. When the Togorain had lifted the motionless boy Qui-Gon had reached for the boy's mind. But still he had to fight the shock that filled him as he made such easy contact. It was not suppose too be this easy.

The Jedi's soft brush across the boy's mind had given him the information he was seeking. One of the boy's ribs was broken, a second badly fractured. The boy's jaw, though quickly brushing to a dark purple only had two or more hairline fractures. His calf had been burnt - grazed most likely by a blaster bolt. A high fever was raging through his body, something Qui-Gon assumed was already there. It was most likely the factor for why the boy had looked so discontent earlier. All in all, nothing that couldn't be fixed.

But there was something else that his shallow scan had only hinted at…something elusive. Something Qui-Gon couldn't access.

"Is this yours, Jedi?" Captain Yuma asked, his grin wide and toothy. "Let down your blast doors and the boy will be allowed to live."

Qui-Gon stiffened. There was a basic bond between all Jedi to start off with, and the Order did everything in its power to encourage it's strength. From the beginning Jedi were taught that the Order was their family. Every Jedi was a father or a mother, a sister or a brother. Regardless of bloodline or appearance they were all unified through the Force. And now, he was being asked to choose between the safety of the masses against the safety of one of his own. It was a choice Qui-Gon desperately didn't want to make. He knew what he would have to choose.

"I shall give you an hour to decide."

And then the screen went blank.

* * *


	7. Orange Really Is The Finest Color

Qui-Gon stared at the cup in front of him. He glanced at the time and sighed. Fifteen minutes had already passed. He could not contact the Jedi Council for advice – or even an order – on what to do. Not that he would even if he could, though it would be nice to have that option. He could not give the ship over to those pirates just as he could not sacrifice Obi-Wan. From across the room Clat'Ha and the pilots stared at him, aware that their fate rested on Qui-Gon's decision.

Not for the first time Qui-Gon could not get the image of Obi-Wan Kenobi out of his mind. This time it was not the image of an exhausted teen, still dripping from the shower, staring at him with incredibly neutral eyes, but that of Obi-Wan's bruised and limp body. He brought his hand up to rub his temples. He could not choose. He knew this. No matter how long he sat here and debated it, he could not choose.

"You're not going to abandon him to them are you?" Clat'Ha demanded. Qui-Gon looked up in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Clat'Ha stood and stalked over to the bench next to him. "Don't think we're so weak. We won't give up as easily as that Togo thinks." Passion filled her voice and eyes. "Obi-Wan's just a boy! Qui-Gon do you have any idea what they do with Force Sensitive? Especially a _trained_ Force Sensitive? They sell them at the highest bidder. You can't let that happen! Besides, suppose you surrender the ship and he kills us all anyway? I would not put that past this Yuma." She took a deep breath to continue. Qui-Gon held up a hand to silence her.

"Clat'Ha, I have no intention of surrendering the ship or abandoning Obi-Wan."

A blush ran up the back of her neck as her mouth snapped closed with a meek, "Oh."

"What I need from you is a technical read out. I have to know how I can get into the back half of the ship."

* * *

Twenty five minutes. That's how long it had taken for the effects to wear off. Twenty five incredibly frustrating minutes. Now he combed the cell, searching for an exit. To his further frustration he realized that the only exit was through the door. The air vents were far too thin for him to crawl through. From the moment he had stepped on the ship the crew had been cautious. Not one slip, Obi-Wan noted resentfully. The pressure point had worked immediately. It had kept him still enough to be transferred here. They must have had some experiences with Jedi. Obi-Wan thought back to the skull on the necklace and wondered who the poor soul was.

Groaning in frustration he slumped against the cell wall, running a hand through his hair.

This is not how he had pictured this trip working. Closing his eyes Obi-Wan resigned himself to waiting. He sunk to the floor and opened his mind to the Force – only to find that his connection with it had been diluted. In shock Obi-Wan's eyes shot open and his hand shot up to the back of his neck. Sure enough, there was a small puncture wound.

_Force Inhibitors._

Obi-Wan cursed. It would take several hours for it to fully wear off. Taking a deep breath Obi-Wan once again centered himself. Getting worked up over this would not help anything. Besides, he had much experience of working under Force Inhibitors. They did not completely eliminate your connection to the Force. That was impossible unless you were exposed to high amounts of the substance. It just made you feel like you were trying to grasp a needle with cooking mittens on.

Outwardly Obi-Wan seemed to be the very epitome of serenity, inwardly he was mess. He had counted on the Force's calming waves to help him gather his strength. He felt hyper aware after being still for so long. His side ached terribly and his jaw felt like it was going to fall off. Heat tore through his body, making the coldness of the cell more than welcome. Yet Obi-Wan sat still. The stillness that seemed to wrap his body was something he hadn't been able to achieve so correctly in his teenage years. It was a trait that Obi-Wan had learned the hard way, through Qui-Gon's seemingly endless meditation exercises.

_How I hated those exercises._

Which is most likely the reason why Qui-Gon had insisted they do them four times a week. He had never fallen asleep during those extended meditation exercises. That honor was left for Anakin alone. _That boy could sleep anywhere. Leave him alone for five minutes and he was dead to the world._

Obi-Wan fought the twitch of his lips. His padawan had been filled with so many quirks. By the end of their stay together they had evolved into friends. Brothers almost. It was true, that when they had first been brought together he saw it solely as fulfilling his Master's last wish. But as time went on, it stopped mattering to Obi-Wan how Anakin became his padawan, simply that he was. And as the boy grew older, was able to catch the hidden jokes that Obi-Wan had once been so fond of making, their relationship grew deeper. Morphing into a brotherhood strengthened deeply by the Clone Wars.

_Yet that bond hadn't been enough._

Obi-Wan fought the urge to move his hand up to rub the pain in his chest. How he wished he could pull the Force to him and take its comforts. No, he hadn't been enough for Anakin. He hadn't been able to see something, to reach a part of Anakin. The part that needed him most. Obi-Wan struggled to swallow past the lump that seemed to have over taken his throat. Behind his eyelids, he felt a familiar sting and gave into the urge to clasp his heart, his right hand kneading the skin aggressively. In defeat to his thoughts, Obi-Wan bowed his head.

_I failed him._

Sharp pain ran up his face as he swallowed hard, his jaw aching at even that use. Sighing heavily Obi-Wan pushed his thoughts of his padawan down. Now was not the time for self-damnation. He would have enough time for that later. Right now, he had to ensure he survived so what once happen could never again.

_That is what I must live for now._

With a soft release of air Obi-Wan nodded, ignoring the protest from his jaw and the even more pressing echo from his ribs. That is what he must live for. Wallowing in self-pity would do nothing but cloud his mind. And now more than ever, Obi-Wan needed his full senses at his command.

* * *

The passageway Qui-Gon was crawling through was so tight that he had been forced to leave his cloak with Clat'Ha. He had moved his lightsaber so that it hung from his front to prevent it from scratching up against the walls. The vent metal was slick and coated with a dull green substance that Qui-Gon avoided thinking about. The vent tract went right over one of the blast doors – the only one that did so. It brought him far into the Togorain part of the ship. He only hoped it was bringing him closer to Obi-Wan.

Though he had no formal bond with the boy, Qui-Gon could feel the Force tugging him towards a point still some feet ahead of him. It could only be Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon hoped the boy's mental state was alright. It was traumatizing enough when one first got out of the protective Temple walls and experienced the Universe without being kidnapped by pirates. Yet it would have to be something Obi-Wan must learn to bear. Events like this were common in a Jedi's life.

But Obi-Wan would not become a Jedi. He was assigned to be a farmer. However, Qui-Gon had never denied the boy's raw skill. And the Master's impression of it had only been increased when he had seen the dead Togorains. Such talent and strength would be wasted in the Agri-Corps. But still Qui-Gon did not feel that he was the one to guide Obi-Wan along his path to Knighthood. Qui-Gon slowed as he approached the source of the Force center. He felt around for the hatch that would open into the hall.

According to the read out there was one every five feet. His search was quick and soon he had dug out the hatchway and sent out a Force probe. Content that the immediate area was empty Qui-Gon opened it and dropped below. He skirted along the hallway silently, his entire body tense and alert. The Jedi felt his apprehension grow as he traveled. The hatchway into the Togorain ship was unguarded.

_Where are the guards?_

It was set up. He could feel it. Yet he did not slow his pace as he reached the corridor that Obi-Wan was kept in. First, he would get the boy, than he would worry about the Togorains. Qui-Gon frowned at the lock. These Togorains truly had experience with Jedi. The lock was highly complex. In fact, it was too complex to be worked open with the Force. Qui-Gon did not like this at all. Activating his lightsaber he cut the lock out, catching it before it had a chance to clatter against the floor.

The Force screamed out a warning and Qui-Gon leapt to the side as a single vibro-knife embedding itself in the metal where he had been standing. Captain Yuma stood there, chuckling loudly.

"You Jedi!" He cried, "So predictable!" His laugh was cut short by the creaking of metal. Suddenly the creak turned into a scream as the door was pushed open. A ragged looking Obi-Wan leaned against it, his eyes scanning the room and coming to rest on Qui-Gon.

"Master Jinn." Qui-Gon almost winced at the formality of the title. "You came."

"Of course he came." Yuma announced in an annoyed voice. He snapped his fingers and the hall began to fill with pirates. "You Jedi are so boring. No matter how many of you I catch you all act the same."

* * *

Obi-Wan ignored Yuma and squeezed through the small crack in the door, ignoring the pain from his sides as he did so. He had never seen a more pleasant sight then the solid frame of the Jedi Master.

"So I see the little Jedi has recovered even without the precious Force. Fast work, I'll admit that I'm impressed." Captain Yuma growled, crossing his giant arms. Obi-Wan nodded and took his place by Qui-Gon's side, for the first time in a long time he felt dwarfed by a figure other than Anakin.

As was his way, Qui-Gon moved to negotiate. "Captain Yuma-"

"Well now Jedi. Now that you're united, why don't you show me your skill?" Yuma interrupted. Qui-Gon moved so that he was standing protectively in front of him. Obi-Wan felt an insane spike of comfort from the simple movement. It had been a long time since he had allowed anyone to protect him.

"That depends." Qui-Gon answered smoothly. Captain Yuma raised a scared eyebrow.

"On what?"

"On how fair you fight." That seemed to amuse Captain Yuma even more because he lapsed into chuckles again.

"Smart man. Smart man." Captain Yuma withdrew a lightsaber from his belt and tossed it to Obi-Wan. He stared down at the foreign weapon.

_It's not mine._

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon shared a disturbed look.

_Who of us had this beast killed?_

"I believe that's fair. Don't you?"

"Very fair." Qui-Gon said calmly. "But how about we make a wager?" This time Captain Yuma looked at him in surprised.

"You wish to make a wager." His voice was flat. Qui-Gon nodded. Captain Yuma stared at the Master Jedi in suspicion before nodding. He motioned behind him. A smaller Togorain woman appeared, shuffling forward with a small data pad in her hand. She was muttering numbers to herself, her pen flying across the screen.

"-four hundred seventy eight thousand credits bet on the Korain Races. Return yield estimated to be at seventy five point sixty eight-"

"Tuto." Captain Yuma interrupted. The babbling Togorain looked up. "This man would like to place a wager." Tuto turned to Qui-Gon.

"Name." Obi-Wan watched in awe as his former Master gave out his information. He had almost forgotten. Well…he could never forget it; he just couldn't remember it with such vibrantness: the pure brilliance that was his Master's ability to manipulate a situation. Somehow the Jedi Master always knew what the most random information about the galaxy.

Information like how Togorain pirates had a weakness for bets.

Not for the first time Obi-Wan wondered how the man had learned it all.

"And the reward if you win?" Tuto demanded.

"If we please you with our demonstration, you let the ship and the boy go and keep me." Obi-Wan's head snapped up.

_Like hell._

"Wait a minute-" Qui-Gon's hand cut him off. Obi-Wan fought a choke as he realized that the strange green substance that caked Qui-Gon's hand was now pressed up against his lips.

"And if you lose?"

"You take the ship and us." Captain Yuma frowned. "Come now. Surely a risk taking Togorain isn't going to turn down such a flush offer?"

"It is a good offer. But I'm making one change. You win and the ship goes free. But I keep you and the baby Jedi." Yuma silenced Qui-Gon has he started to object. "That's my final offer Jedi. I could just kill you both now and then take the ship."

They argued on for a few more minutes. But it was clear to Obi-Wan that Yuma could not be made to change his mind. Obi-Wan pulled the large hand from his mouth.

"Master Jinn." Obi-Wan said softly. The Jedi Master turned to look at him. "It's alright. I'd rather be here with you anyway." Qui-Gon frowned and Obi-Wan could nearly feel the discontent rolling off of him. With a sigh he turned back to Yuma.

"Agreed." He said curtly. Yuma nodded at Tuto. Instantly the Togorain was scribbling furiously on her data pad. Muttering to herself again she barely noticed when she was led away by the shoulders. Yuma clapped his hands as a huge smile took his face.

"May we have a moment?" Qui-Gon asked. The Togorain pirate did a mock bow and turned to address his men. "Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said softly, "You're under a Force Inhibitor correct?" Obi-Wan nodded. "I want you to stay behind me at all times. Follow my lead the best you can. Do you understand?"

 _He thinks I will slow him down._ Obi-Wan tried again to get a firm grip on the Force. Again, it slipped from his fingers. _And he's most likely right._

"I understand, Master Jinn." Obi-Wan promised glancing at the gathering pirates behind the Master's back. "How many are we going to fight?"

"My guess?" Qui-Gon glanced over his shoulder. "All of them."

Obi-Wan frowned. He did not know what help he could be in his weakened form. Without the Force he would be fighting almost blindly. A heavy hand rested on his shoulder. Obi-Wan looked up to find Qui-Gon staring intently down at him.

"Do not be afraid, Obi-Wan."

_But I am._

Obi-Wan felt a ripple of surprise at the thought. But he was indeed afraid. The future was no longer following a cemented path that he knew. As much as that thought comforted him, it also terrified him. Once again, he was at the mercy of the unknown. The reassuring hand squeezed his shoulder once more before removing itself.

"We are ready." Qui-Gon stated, igniting his lightsaber. Seconds later Obi-Wan followed suit. The lightsaber in his hand hummed to life and Obi-Wan found himself temporary distracted at the rich orange color of the blade.

" _Orange is truly the finest color for a blade." Garen Muln, longtime friend of Obi-Wan Kenobi announced as he helped the slightly singed padawan off the floor. Obi-Wan snorted._

" _Whatever you say, Garen."_

" _No. Seriously Obi-Wan. Orange is a color strength and skill. Like the kind I just used to kick your butt back to the Beginners Class."_

" _Muln." Obi-Wan warned. The pilot just laughed, twirling his deactivated lightsaber around his hand expertly._

" _Can't fight the truth, Obi." The Padawan ignited his lightsaber, staring at the deep orange blade thoughtfully. "This is how I want to die. With this thing in my hand."_

" _How very romantic of you."_

" _Shut up, Kenobi."_

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's voice instantly snapped his attention back in the present. Falling into a defensive stance Obi-Wan pushed the face of his friend from his mind. But, as the Togorains charged, Garen's voice echoed on.

" _This is how I want to die. With this thing in my hand."_

Obi-Wan kept himself behind Qui-Gon, covering the Jedi's back. Sweat lined Obi-Wan's brows. The Force's warnings were slow and hard to understand. Sometimes he was just barely meeting the blows. He was working on pure instinct and experience gained from a lifetime of saber play – but still, his injuries slowed him down. Each blow against the Pirate's energy shields sent tentacles of pain echoing through his side. After a few moments Qui-Gon seemed to sense Obi-Wan's plight because his fighting style switched to defense. The Jedi Master was working overtime, efficiently protecting both of them from the Togorain's attack.

_At this rate he's going to tire himself out!_

Obi-Wan forced himself to be quicker, his orange lightsaber slashing out again and again alongside the emerald one. The battle seemed to go on forever. They would push the Togorain's back, and the pirates would simply readjust their energy shields and recharge. They had killed a few, of this Obi-Wan was sure. But not enough. Qui-Gon seemed to be vibrating he was flashing so fast. The powerful Jedi was destroying Togorains at an amazing speed but after nearly fifteen minutes of this constant onslaught Obi-Wan could see Qui-Gon slowing. Only by the fraction of a second. The blocks were becoming lower and lower, the spins less and less centered.

_We're in trouble if this doesn't end soon._

Suddenly a high pitched whistle filled the air. The Togorain's backed off, breathing heavily.

"That's enough, boys." Captain Yuma ordered. "Remember, we don't get paid if they're dead." He was sitting in a chair someone had brought him, head cocked to a side and an amused smile on his lips. "Very impressive, Jedi. I will take your offer. We will vacate this ship and leave its crew to their own means."

Captain Yuma stood and stretched. Qui-Gon powered down his weapon, but Obi-Wan left his on for a moment still. He had a bad feeling about this… At Qui-Gon's meaningful glance Obi-Wan powered his weapon down and sighed as both lightsabers were removed. He stiffened as a blaster was pressed into his back, and then into Qui-Gon's. Yuma came forward with a long injector. Qui-Gon stiffened as it was pressed against his neck.

"Now, now, Master Jedi." Captain Yuma said with some admonishment. "Wouldn't want you escaping on us, now would we?"

_Dammit. Force Inhibitors._

With a hissing sound the injector did its job. And all hope flew out the window.

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed as they were brought to a new cell. It was larger than the other one but was still devoid of any form of light.

_At least I'm not alone this time._

Obi-Wan snorted.

 _Well I wanted some time to be with him. Looks like I have an abundance of it now._ To his left sat Qui-Gon Jinn, body stiff in meditation. Obi-Wan could see nothing but the darkness of the cell. But he did not need his eyes to see. Though the Force was muffled in him, he could still feel the bright, unbinding light of Qui-Gon Jinn. _Then again, he may not even speak to me._

That was a depressing thought. Obi-Wan brought his knees up to his chest, ignoring the slight protest of his burnt calf. He was tired of the stiffness that was slowly climbing up his legs. He felt the small pricks of pain as his foot came back to life. Obi-Wan had fully meant to follow Qui-Gon into a trance, perhaps even a healing one, but his connection to the Force was not yet strong enough for him to reach the mental state it required.

"You performed well out there, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon said suddenly. There was a rustling sound as the Master sat himself closer to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan blinked, surprised at both the closeness of the Master's presence and the familiarity of the complement.

"I slowed you down." Obi-Wan said softly. The older Jedi shrugged next to him.

"We cannot control the cards we are dealt." His voice was tired. "We can only react to them. And you did that quite well. I saw your handy work with the Togorains. Quite impressive."

This time it was Obi-Wan's turn to shrug. "I did what I had to."

"A modest answer." Again Obi-Wan shrugged. Obi-Wan leaned back against the wall and sighed, rubbing his jaw ruefully. Even in the dark cell the action did not go unnoticed by Qui-Gon. "Rest, Obi-Wan." Large hands guided him to lay flat on the floor. Obi-Wan winced at the pulling sensation in his ribs. "We must depend on your body to heal itself until the Force returns to us in full."

Obi-Wan sighed and nodded, forgetting that the Jedi could not see the action, and allowed himself to drift off into beautiful unconsciousness.

* * *

Qui-Gon stared at where he knew the boy next to him was. He readjusted Obi-Wan's cloak to make sure it was on tight enough.

Already, he noted after a light scan with his hands, the swelling on the boys jaw was going down. That was probably one of the more painful injuries. He laid a hand on the boy's head and frowned at the heat he felt there. The fever had yet to break. Obi-Wan's hair was thick with sweat. Qui-Gon sighed and leaned back on his heels, without the Force there wasn't much he could do.

Obi-Wan might need more help than he could provide before this ordeal was over. Qui-Gon could not help but wonder how such a sickness had escaped the Healers at the Temple. He knew the boy had a detailed physical before the sparring match. Qui-Gon sighed and sat himself down again. Perhaps he caught something on _The Monument._ Yet to have it come on so suddenly...

He had left Clat'Ha with orders to contact the Jedi Council as soon as _The Monument's_ com channels were restored. That should be happening at any time. Or so he hoped. With any luck the Council would have a team searching for them within forty-eight hours. This did nothing to settle the feeling of uneasiness that had formed in his stomach. He still recalled Yuma's words about not being paid if he or Obi-Wan were dead. Had Yuma been hired by someone to track them down? Somehow that didn't feel right to him from what he knew of Togorains. They were rarely bounty hunters. They preferred to do a job and see who was willing to buy what was left over.

More likely was the idea that Obi-Wan and himself were about to be sold off as slaves to the highest bidder. Qui-Gon had no doubt that he would be fine. He was a well experienced field agent. He had escaped worse situations than being sold as a slave. Yet he worried for Obi-Wan. The boy was sick and had no experiences with working in the real world. Qui-Gon would just have to do his best to get them both out of this mess.

By his side Obi-Wan took a shuddering breath. Turning his attention back to the boy Qui-Gon was concerned to find his breathing became more and more labored.

_Another nightmare?_

Soft sounds of distress were escaping from Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon found it was time to wake him. The moment the Jedi Master's hands came into contact with the boy he sat straight up, his own hands wrapping tightly around Qui-Gon's. A tortured sob escaped his throat.

"He kills them all!"

And then the boy collapsed.

"Obi-Wan!" Pulling the boy into his arms Qui-Gon pressed his ear against Obi-Wan's face, listening desperately for breath. He had never felt anything as wonderful as the hot air that brushed against his cheek


	8. Those That Wish To Harm Us

Sometime during the night Obi-Wan's fever had broken. The boy's collar and hair were drenched and small shivers ran through him. He slept restlessly now, tossing in his sleep and mumbling incoherent words, nothing understandable since the outburst though.

' _He kills them all!'_

A shudder ran up his spine. Qui-Gon attributed those words to the fever. Yet still, he could not drive them from his mind. There was something in the way that Obi-Wan had said it that did not allow him to forget. He decided that he would ask the boy what it was he had dreamed. Perhaps then the older Jedi could make sense of the words.

Qui-Gon pressed his palm against Obi-Wan's forehead, nodding in relief as he felt that it was cooler than before. What the boy needed now was to rest. But Qui-Gon did not know how long the boy's respite would last. A sense of unease had been growing in his chest, reaching deeper and deeper as the hours past. Something big was going to happen and Qui-Gon doubted highly that he was going to like it. His only priority now was to get himself and the boy out. Next to him, Obi-Wan began mumbling again, his body tensing as his eyes flickered under closed eyelids. Qui-Gon ran a gentle hand through the boy's hair. Obi-Wan sighed at his touch and visibly relaxed.

Qui-Gon allowed a small smile to spread as he spiked the boy's hair up. It was truly amazing how the child's hair defied gravity. His amusement with the boy's hair was short for the Force, as muffled as it was, sent him a soft call.

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon shook the boy. Blurry blue eyes blinked once again into existence. "You need to get up, Obi-Wan." He had expected the boy to argue. Instead he nodded and pushed himself up, swaying slightly. There were sounds behind the door and Obi-Wan pulled himself around to face it. Qui-Gon noted with extreme displeasure that the boy's breaths were still far too shallow.

With a hiss, the cell doors opened. A group of Togorains stood there. They stepped into the cell, blasters aimed neatly at their heads. Qui-Gon was jerked out of the cell by his arm, binders slapped upon his hands almost as soon as he stood. The same fate awaited Obi-Wan.

"Come pigs." The lead Togorain hissed as they were pulled down the hall. "Now we make you look pretty."

They stepped into a large fresher. Before either could have a chance to react they were stripped and shoved into separate showers. They were cleaned, groomed and redressed with their freshly cleaned uniforms. And Qui-Gon was given a new cloak. A Jedi cloak. One that had already seen many missions.

 _Oh yes,_ Qui-Gon thought grimly as he gently fingered a burn mark, _I didn't like this at all._

Obi-Wan let out a grunt of pain as one of the Togorain's shoved his head to the side and stabbed him in the neck, injecting a fresh batch of Force inhibitors. The Force broke down and removed the inhibitors within a twenty-four hour time frame, Qui-Gon only hoped the Togorain's would make a mistake and miscalculate when they required their next shot. One of the Togorains called out to the lead Togorain. They gathered around Obi-Wan speaking quickly in their own tongue. Alarms flashed in Qui-Gon's mind as they began to pull Obi-Wan out of the room.

"Stop!" He started forward but a blaster pressed firmly against his temple stopped him. "Where are you taking him?"

"He's sick. I am taking him to the sick bay." The lead Togorain said in a neutral tone. Qui-Gon eyed him distrustfully. A smile spread across the scarred face. "Or maybe I go to kill him."

And then he was gone and Qui-Gon found himself being led in the opposite direction as Obi-Wan.

* * *

Obi-Wan did not recall how it was he ended up asleep. But when he came to, he was lying on a cold table, tubes in his arms, nose and mouth. Panic filled him as he flashed back to the war – after the Battle of Kavien's Moon to be precise – where Garen Muln had lost his life saving him. He sat up rapidly, pulling the tubes out and choking as he removed the rather large tube from his mouth. It was only once he had been disconnected from the machines did Obi-Wan realize he wasn't on the medical retrieval ship at all.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and winced - he could still feel the ghost of the tube in his throat. He glanced around. The room he was in was all white, the only thing in it was the table he was on and the few machines he was connected to. And he was naked. That was perhaps the biggest surprise for him. He slipped off the table and headed towards the only door in the room. To his surprise it was open.

_I must have awoken earlier then they thought I would._

He pushed through and glanced around. It was an observation room. In a locker Obi-Wan found a white uniform, a bit too big for him but better then nothing. He dressed quickly, pleased to find his previous wounds and fever gone. The Jedi discarded the boots entirely, there was no way he could walk in the behemoth things. _Now to see to my escape._

The room was easy enough to get out of but Obi-Wan found himself quickly lost in the foreign ship. His feet made no sound on the steel floor, even though he stumbled here and there from the echo of the pains that once haunted him. He walked until he found himself with nowhere else to go. A large, double spaced door stood in front of him, neatly dwarfing Obi-Wan as he stood before it.

He was about to move on, turn around and retrace his steps, when the door opened. And Obi-Wan found himself staring into eyes that were a color of blue he did not think could exist in a human. Before him stood Xanatos du Crion.

Qui-Gon's second apprentice. A man of great skill, strength and wit. A man that would have made a formable Jedi, if he had not had so much arrogance and pride. He was quick to learn and skilled in machines in a way that the Temple had not seen again – until Anakin. The man all children were told was dead.

_Yes, he and Anakin are much alike._

Xanatos du Crion also saw himself, from the beginning, better than his fellows. All though raised in the Jedi Temple, Xanatos still remembered the pampering that came from being the son of the planet Telos' wealthiest man. One would think, with him being taken at such a young age, that he would have forgotten such special treatment. It was not so. Qui-Gon indulged his Padawan, believing every word the boy spoke. And whether he meant to or not, he did more than any other to stroke Xanatos' ego.

 _No man is perfect. And raising a Padawan is no easy job. There is no set guide book on how to do it._ Obi-Wan let a bitter laugh run through his head. _Who would I be to judge? Did I not do the same to my own Padawan? Towards the end, when Anakin needed me the most, I was too confident that the job was done that I failed to see him falling apart before me. If I had known, I would never have left him alone. Never._

The Sith, and yes Xanatos could be called that, stared down at him. Obi-Wan had caught the smallest hint of surprise in those blue eyes, but it was gone now, and all of Xanatos was unreadable, even to his experienced eyes. A small, wicked smile spread across the dark man's face.

_A formidable man._

Somewhere in his mind Obi-Wan was acutely aware that he was going to have destroy this man. He could not suffer Xanatos joining up with Palpatine. The very notion sent shivers down his spine.

"Well what a pleasant surprise, my old Master's new Padawan! And here I was thinking I'd have a bit of time to clean up before we met."

"Xanatos." Obi-Wan acknowledge quietly. Throughout the earlier years of his apprenticeship, Xanatos had gone out of his way to try to kill both him and Qui-Gon. Though Obi-Wan was not armed, he felt little fear towards this encounter. _It's not Xanatos' style to kill without an audience. Nor so simply._

"Ah! So you know of me already! Come, come," Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow as he was led cheerfully into the room. "Allow me to make you more comfortable. Some tea? Or perhaps some water?" Xanatos plopped down on an overstuffed sofa chair. "Please! Sit, sit." Obi-Wan did not move. The warm smiled dripped off of Xanatos' face. "So. My Master has gotten himself a smart one has he?"

"He is no longer your Master, traitor." In a blink of an eye Xanatos' was undeniably close, his lightsaber inches from Obi-Wan's throat.

"Do not speak as if you know! I am not the betrayer!" He hissed, his blue eyes turning to ice in his anger. Even with the Force suppressants he could feel Xanatos' anger rolling off him in waves, breaking against Obi-Wan and his will.

"Oh?" His voice was void of emotion as he delivered the lines he had long wished to say. "Then I have been misinformed. I was under the impression that you used your Father's death as an excuse to leave the Order. A reason to leave that didn't make it your fault. The key is to always have a back door, isn't it Xanatos?"

The blue eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch.

"Who are you?" The demand was precise, each word clipped with the central core worlds accent that was so like his own.

"I am Obi-Wan Kenobi."

He had avoided the question. They both knew that. Xanatos stepped away, red blade retracting with a hiss.

"Indeed, my Master has gotten himself a smart little one." Xanatos said softly, raising a hand to stroke the scar on his face. "Tomorrow you're going to be auctioned off. Pray to that Light you hold so dear that it is I who win the bidding." With that Xanatos clapped his hands and Togorain pirates filled the room.

Obi-Wan could still feel his intense stare on his back as he was led out of the room.

Xanatos' words stroked the ball of unease that was growing rapidly in his stomach.

' _Pray to that Light you hold so dear that it is I who wins the bidding.'_

Obi-Wan had a rather bad feeling.

_Who else is going to be there?_

* * *

To say Qui-Gon Jinn looked like a man racked with worry would be to lie. He sat quietly in meditation, his breathing even and his facial features lax. He was trying to override the drugs in his system and establish a firm contact with the Force.

So far he had had little luck.

Qui-Gon's eyes opened, glancing in the direction of the door seconds before it slid open and a whitely clad Obi-Wan Kenobi was thrust through it. Qui-Gon was up and supporting the boy before he had a chance to stumble. The door had barely hissed shut when he began his questioning.

"Where did they take you?"

Obi-Wan tugged at his white clothes.

"An infirmary. There was no one there when I awoke. I escaped the room easily enough, but the passages of this ship are like a maze, Master Jinn. Unfortunately, that is the least of our worries. Tomorrow we are going to be auctioned off to perspective buyers."

Qui-Gon nodded with a heavy sigh. "It is as I had thought then."

"You suspected this?"

Qui-Gon could not help that notice that all though the words were of surprise, the tone held little of it. Qui-Gon frowned. It seems that he had not given enough credit to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"You had not?"

There was a long silence.

"Not until late in the game, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon leaned back against the cell wall, staring down at the younger Jedi. Qui-Gon tugged the end of his sleeves down so they covered his palms. There was something more about Obi-Wan Kenobi, something much deeper than an arrogant teen. Instead of clearing, the air of mystery around the boy only seemed to be getting thicker. Qui-Gon could not deny the curiosity – and unease – that grew each moment he spent with the boy.

"Sit down Obi-Wan. You still have more to tell me." Obi-Wan nodded, sitting down across from Qui-Gon. The boy shifted uncomfortably in the white nurse's uniform. Qui-Gon removed his cloak and offered it to him.

"No, Master Jinn, you should keep it. I have no doubt I will be getting my uniform back soon enough."

"Yes, but I am not the one who has been sick. Put it on." With a little nod of defeat Obi-Wan did. "Now, what else has happened?"

Obi-Wan shifted the cloak around until it was comfortable. He was stalling Qui-Gon noted. "I met Xanatos du Crion."

Whatever it was Qui-Gon Jinn had been expecting that was not it.

"You what?"

Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably again.

"Your old Padawan, the one the Masters tell everyone is dead. He's here, and he's one of the bidders tomorrow. He told me he intends to win the auction and that perhaps we'd be lucky in that."

Qui-Gon simply stared at Obi-Wan. Again the boy shifted, avoiding his glance. Qui-Gon felt a new level of fear enter his heart. If Xanatos thought that Obi-Wan was his apprentice…Force knows what he would do to the boy. Yet as the older Jedi stared at the boy worriedly, thoughts of another matter were already drifting through his mind. "You knew he was not dead."

The boy did not hesitate. "Yes."

How was it the boy knew of Xanatos? What he had said was true; none of the children knew that Xanatos was not dead. Force, many of his own classmates thought Xanatos dead. It seemed to the older Jedi that Obi-Wan had a knack of knowing things about himself that the boy should not. Qui-Gon stared at the boy thoughtfully, as if he stared long and hard enough the answer would present itself. How had the boy known how he took his tea?

There was only one reasonable explanation.

In hopes of being able to win an advantage, Obi-Wan Kenobi had done research on him. Qui-Gon was slightly amazed at the lengths this child had gone through to become an apprentice. To find information on Xanatos would be quite a task.

"How?" His voice came out a bit sharper than he had meant. Obi-Wan's expression did not change.

"My apologies Master Jinn, but people talk. And I was curious." Qui-Gon nodded. He highly doubted that was the end of it. "Nevertheless, Master Jinn, Xanatos seemed to be implying that there will be people of…rougher crowds then him tomorrow."

"I would not doubt it. Force sensitives, especially trained ones, are very useful in many trades." Qui-Gon wrapped his large arms around himself in thought. "Sleep for now, Obi-Wan. You will need it."

The boy nodded and closed his eyes.

* * *

Barely three hours had passed when they came for them. Obi-Wan was thrown his clothing, which he changed quickly into. Obi-Wan took a deep breath as he straightened his uniform. He turned to look at Qui-Gon, slightly surprised to find the older Jedi staring at him intensely. With a small smile Obi-Wan held out the Master's cloak.

_Is that concern I see in his eyes?_

"Obi-Wan," The big Jedi stepped closer. "Keep your head down, try and speak as little as possible. The important thing is that we stay together. I will try to manipulate the situation. If we should get separated, try and escape only if you are positive you can. Take no risks." He placed his hands on Obi-Wan's broad shoulders and squeezed them reassuringly. "I will find you."

Obi-Wan nodded briskly, trying to keep the warmth he had felt from the older Jedi's words off his face as his arms were tied behind his back. He led the way through the hallways; the sharp pokes on his back telling him what direction to turn. As he stood once again before the large doors Obi-Wan had to fight the nervousness that filled him away, pushing it to the fringes of his mind. He needed his wits about him. What happened today may shape the entire fate of his mission.

They were announced and the doors hissed open before them.

The sight that met Obi-Wan's eyes sent dread through his entire body.

Sitting at the end of the lengthily table was Xanatos du Crion. To his right was a cheery looking human woman. She had blonde hair pulled tightly into braids – each coiled on her head. Looming behind her was seemingly the real threat. A tall, dark skinned humanoid, with every inch covered in tattoos, similar to that of Darth Maul's. A large breathing mask covered his mouth and nose. Two amber eyes glared out at the rest of the room. Obi-Wan's eyes returned to the woman. Though she seemed harmless Obi-Wan sensed a deep darkness about her, just waiting under the skin.

But what had taken his total attention was the presence of a very old menace. To her right, with combat boots propped up on the table and a rather bored look on his face, sat a very young Darth Maul. The tattooed face glared at him, a wicked smile displaying the Zabrak's pointed teeth. Noticing Obi-Wan's lingering stare he gave a small, mocking wave. Obi-Wan was lined up at the other end of the table, Qui-Gon standing beside him. Captain Yuma entered behind them, a large smile taking up his scarred face.

"Gentlemen and Lady! How it does my heart to see you all here!" Obi-Wan could not help but notice that he hadn't added on what exactly it did to his heart. "As always, I have come through on my word. I present to you my two newest Jedi, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his Apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi."

No one said anything. The woman leaned forward, chewing on her gloved finger. Obi-Wan could not help notice the sharp contrast of her bright red lips against the black leather.

"I'll take the whelp." She said in a soft voice. "I have no interest in the elder." Darth Maul let out a growl and slammed his fist down on the table.

"I already told you my Master wanted the younger one." Obi-Wan could not control the disgust that took his body at the idea of seeing Darth Sidious face to face. "Bitch, you took the last child."

At the insult the towering humanoid behind the woman lunged forward. Darth Maul flipped from his seat and landed like a graceful cat, his red lightsaber slashing at the humanoid. His blade was met by an equally red one. In seconds the two were going after each other. Obi-Wan noted with great interest that Darth Maul had yet to ascend to a double bladed lightsaber. In fact, the Sith seemed only slightly older them himself and as such was just entering puberty. The Sith was slight in frame, but you could tell from watching him move that it was pure muscle that made him lankly.

The Zabrak was the better fighter, but not by much. Maul's performance was still impressive, but it was not yet to the level that Obi-Wan had fought him on.

_I could take him._

Obi-Wan glanced next to him. Though the Jedi was keeping himself perfectly collected, Obi-Wan knew that suddenly seeing Xanatos and seemingly a group of Siths – an Order that was long dead mind you – was a bit of a shock. Obi-Wan guessed there would be little manipulation of the situation by the tall Jedi. He would have to try and save their fate. Obi-Wan returned to watch the fight. The woman had leaned back in her chair, watching the fight with great mirth. Xanatos was rubbing the bridge of his nose with a strained look on his face.

"Terlius, call off your pet." He said after a moment.

The woman waved him off. "Oh hush now Xanti poo, this is good exercise for my little apprentice."

Obi-Wan failed to see what was little about him. Xanatos rolled his eyes and stood. In a second his blade intercepted the dueling warrior's. He held their blades locked down.

"Gentlemen! If we could please try and restrain ourselves for the time being. We all have far better things to do then spend the whole day here, so if we could kindly move on." He retracted his saber and took a seat again. The tall humanoid looked at Terlius before standing once again behind her. Darth Maul did not sit, but stayed standing.

"As I said before, my Master wants the boy."

"Oh come now, surely Sidious has enough to play with. I want him. He's cute. Don't you think so, Kilzar?" The tall humanoid behind her looked at Obi-Wan, narrowed his eyes, and nodded.

"Whatever my Master wishes."

"Such a good boy." Terlius cooed, reaching back to stroke his chest lovingly.

"I'll tell you what." Xanatos said darkly, his voice laced with annoyance. "Last time, you did indeed take the younger one Terlius. And before that your Master took it Maul. This time, I will take the youth. And since no one has any interest in the elder, I will take him to."

"I did not say I was not interested in him." Terlius protested.

"Are you?"

"No. But you could have asked." She crossed her arms with a frown. "Courtesy boys, that's what makes our little group run. Courtesy." Darth Maul rolled his eyes and looked away. Xanatos sighed.

"Then by courtesy you will allow me to take them both. Your Master will understand, Darth Maul, if he does not simply remind him of our agreement. If he is still unsettled, send him to my offices. Tell him to make an appointment with my secretary."

Darth Maul visibly bristled at slight against his Master while Obi-Wan fought back an highly inappropriate giggle at the thought of Sidious making an appointment with anyone's secretary.

"Fine then." Terlius said with a sigh. "They're all yours. After all, you'd just outbid me wouldn't you? Smug bastard. Some of us had to worm our way into our riches you know." Terlius stood and leaned over the table and gave Xanatos a quick peck on the cheek. She sent a friendly wave in the Jedi's direction and glided out of the room, Kilzar following diligently behind.

Obi-Wan committed their names and appearances to his memory. In the back of his mind he wondered how many Siths there were exactly.

_My death list just keeps on growing._

Darth Maul stood and glared at Xanatos.

"My Master is not pleased. But he agrees with your wishes. He also bids me to remind you that his invitation is still open."

"My answer is no. But, as always, I am honored at the invitation and will hold it deep in my thoughts. I hold your Master in the highest esteem, naturally, and thank him for allowing me to have the Jedi." His tone completely lacked the disrespect that had filled it seconds before, taking on a polite and respectfulness to it, ringing with a genuineness that everyone in the room seemed to know was fake. With a sharp turn, Darth Maul left Xanatos and stalked towards the door, stopping only at the door to glance back at them. He smiled as his eyes locked with Obi-Wan's, raising a finger to his throat and making a sharp cutting motion.

 _The irony._ Obi-Wan noted dryly as the door shut. Xanatos walked briskly to Captain Yuma, all smiles now, and paid an outrageously high sum of credits for them both.

"Come now, dearest Master! Don't be so sour! I have just saved you and your new apprentice's life! Where is my thanks? You could have ended up with a much worse lot then me." Qui-Gon did not say anything. Xanatos let out an exaggerated shrug and turned to look at Obi-Wan. He winked and pulled his cloak up higher. "Come my little pets! Your Master is going to take you into a world you've never seen before!" His cruel laughter cut through the air, making Obi-Wan grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes.

_This is not good._

Yet what Xanatos had said was correct. He had in fact saved Obi-Wan from a potentially horrible fate at the hands of two Siths. A fate that Qui-Gon could probably not fully comprehend. However, Obi-Wan could. He was far from ready to face Palpatine. Even Yoda had told him that he was no match for the Sith Lord. Obi-Wan did not know how strong Palpatine was at the moment. There was always the chance that the Sith's youth could make him a stronger – just as it could make him weaker. The last thing the Jedi wanted was to run blindly into such peril.

Obi-Wan felt the twinges of gratitude in his chest. He cursed, he didn't want to feel any gratitude. He had to be sure, that no matter what happened, when it came time for him to lay waste to Xanatos du Crion nothing swayed his hand.

* * *

What Qui-Gon would like to say is that he had walked into that room, taken in its contents and immediately gotten control over himself. The truth of the matter was that he was completely stunned. Before him had sat a group of Siths, each participating in a Jedi slave market.

It wasn't until they were being led out of the room by Xanatos that Qui-Gon was really able to push past the pure shock and think. And the first real thing he thought of was how shocked he had been.

And how reserved Obi-Wan had been.

Not a drop of surprise at the situation, no shock at the presence of the Jedi's archenemies - a breed they had all thought had been killed off. Nothing, but a cooled, resigned expression. Qui-Gon highly doubted that the boy was that in control of his emotions or that Obi-Wan had predicted something of this sort.

No, he thought as he stared at Obi-Wan's back, there was something going on here. Something he had failed to see before. The question was what.


	9. Partial Revelations

The council room was dead silent as the stressed woman finished her report. Clat'Ha ran a hand through her hair as twelve eyes followed her every move. The woman was exhausted, deep circles under her eyes and a painful looking gash across her forehead. Clat'Ha had always been a blunt woman, and the current situation only made her more so. Unable to take the intense silence any longer she spoke up.

"I'll expect your team within twenty-four hours. That's the least you can do for your own. Master Jinn and Obi-Wan saved our ship." She crossed her arms behind her back.

"The team has already been deployed." Master Windu informed her, his eyes tracing every movement she made. "We thank you for your dedication to Master Jinn and Initiate Kenobi." A kind smile took his face. "Perhaps you should seek rest."

Even over the holocom the softness of his words took effect. Clat'Ha visibly deflated and nodded.

"Rest is what we all need. Until we speak next, Master Jedi." With a flicker the image disappeared. Silence reigned in the chamber.

"No coincidence it is that Master Jinn is with the boy." Yoda said softly, tracing a pattern on the floor with his gimmer stick.

"I certainly hope the Force is as confident." Windu said as he leaned back in his seat, the worry for his friend only just concealed beneath his features.

* * *

The ride to Xanatos' ship was a silent one. Obi-Wan found himself staring at the dark master, his hands bound together with magnetic cuffs. At his side Qui-Gon sat, equally silent. Xanatos seemed to be content staring right back at Obi-Wan. He found it impossibly hard to look away from the ice blue eyes of the Sith. There was still so much unknown about Xanatos. And the fact that Obi-Wan had had an intimate hand in his death made him all the more curious about the ex-Jedi's role in everything.

Xanatos' ship was extensive, a beautiful vessel. And surprisingly, from what Obi-Wan could see from the port side, unmarked by the Offworld logo. He would have thought that Xanatos would have broadcasted that such a fine ship was in his possession. It made Obi-Wan even more curious about what was waiting inside it. Xanatos led the way down the ramp, his security detail forming a protective circle around him, even in his own ship. He stopped at the foot of the ramp and glanced back at the Jedi. At that moment Obi-Wan could understand why people fell so easily under the charm or Xanatos. His blue eyes sparkled with humor and the smile that took his lips made his pale features seem alive. He extended his arms out as if to say 'it's good to be home.'

_They often say that the evilest things come in the prettiest packages._

"Come now my esteemed former Master! I have someone I would very much like you meet." With a swirl of his cloak Xanatos marched off and the sharp blaster points at the Jedi's backs assured they would follow.

They crossed the large hanger bay and found a youth, dressed completely in black, with a slender orange cigarette extending from his mouth. He bowed low with a flourish and Obi-Wan was astonished to find a lightsaber hanging from his belt.

"Apprentice." Xanatos admonished sharply. With a flick of his wrist, the cigarette was sent flying. "How many times have I told you not to smoke those?" Even without seeing his face Obi-Wan could sense that the reprimand was not truly meant.

"My apologizes, Master." He leaned to the side, peaking behind Xanatos to stare at the Jedi. "Have you brought us new pets?"

"Remember your manners, my young Apprentice." Xanatos stepped out of the way. "This is Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi." The boy looked from one to the other before bowing.

Obi-Wan watched the boy with great interest. Like his Master, he was polite and refined, cheerful and welcoming. Possessing not only the same clever wit and charm of his Master but also the same dashing looks. _And undoubtedly the same character flaws._

"My name is Boden du Crion. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Obi-Wan felt his breath catch. A son? Surely not, he was too old. A brother then. To his left, the stiffening of Qui-Gon's posture showed he was as shocked as Obi-Wan. Xanatos smirked as he reached out and ruffled the boy's hair.

"You were unaware then, Master? My father kept him a secret. He knew that you would come and take him otherwise." Xanatos' voice was thick with venom. Then, as quickly as it had come it was gone. "Come, let us progress to the main parlor, I'm sure you're famished from your ordeal."

Xanatos talked cheerily as he led the way through hallway after hallway. Obi-Wan tried to keep count of each turn but found it increasingly hard to concentrate. In an act that was meant solely to mess with his head, Boden was walking extremely close behind him. Xanatos laughed at one of his own jokes and Obi-Wan could feel the air from Boden's chuckles as he laughed as well.

The 'parlor' was giant viewing room. Outfitted with large, comfortable couches and chairs at one end, there was a more formal area at the other end and a large, blood red bar separated the two spaces. On the only wall that wasn't a window a viewing screen took up the entire space. Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes in thought; obviously, this was an entertaining room. One built for large groups. Obi-Wan glanced over at Xanatos only to find the Sith already staring at him. Upon catching his glance a slow, pleased smile crawled across his lips.

"I see you've noticed the eccentrics of this room, young Kenobi. You see, you could call this ship a…get away for those who can afford it."

"You run a pleasure ship?" That would explain a lot. Pleasure ships were a supply of never-ending money for those that could afford them; afford the cost of keeping them stocked, the private advertising they required and the endless amount of bribes paid off to various military, mercenary and governments to keep their presence invisible. Somehow, this course of action from Xanatos didn't surprise him.

"You could call it that." Xanatos waved a gloved hand in dismissal. "Never matter. Come, sit, drink. Boden." The apprentice took his place behind the bar and leaned over it his fingers running over the top in a sensual manner. He pressed down and two menus popped from the counter. Neither Jedi moved. Xanatos laughed.

"Such distrust, Master. They must truly dislike you." Boden said as he sipped on a newly acquired drink.

"Ah that may be my Apprentice, that may be. Well," Xanatos gestured and the menu's retracted into the bar. "So be it." Grabbing the end of Obi-Wan's cuffs he pulled Obi-Wan towards a nearby door.

_I think not._

The idea of being alone in a room with Xanatos didn't seem like the best one to him. While he doubted that Xanatos would kill him without Qui-Gon physically present, he truly put little past the dark Master. Obi-Wan anchored his feet, locking his back and legs. Xanatos turned to look at him in surprise before laughing. Behind him Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon tense eyes boring through him and into Xanatos.

"Tell your little one to behave or I shall be forced to discipline him."

"It's alright, Obi-Wan, do as he says." Qui-Gon's voice was cold and hard, and Obi-Wan had no doubt that he was currently very angry. Nodding Obi-Wan allowed himself to be guided into the next room. He couldn't help but feel a sense of finality when the door slid shut behind him.

"Alone at last." Xanatos sighed as he leaned against his desk. Obi-Wan stayed where he was.

_This is a test. He's testing me. Let him then. I have been tested by greater than him._

_Ah, there's that arrogance of mine._

"I have a question, Obi-Wan." He lifted a small glass globe with an object in the middle and studied it. "And I find it very relevant to everything that is going to happen. In fact, I find the answer to this question so relevant, that I feel that I cannot proceed with any of my plans without knowing it."

_I have a bad feeling about this._

Xanatos placed the globe down before looking back up at Obi-Wan. Every instinct went into overdrive at the sight of his eyes. In less than a second Xanatos had crossed the room, one hand pushing Obi-Wan against the door while the other gripped his chin. The Jedi fought to swallow as Xanatos' thumb dug into the soft hollow under the joint of his jaw bone. The entire length of Xanatos' body was pressed against Obi-Wan's in an act of sexual intimidation that was working rather well. The Jedi struggled against the older man, snarling up at him, but it had no effect. His mind was screaming directions to his body, but somewhere along the way, they weren't translating correctly.

"What is that makes those wheels turn so frequently in your pretty head?" The pressure of his thumb increased and Obi-Wan couldn't help but grunt. "Mind if I take a look?"

Ravished by illness, guilt, pain and the inhibitors his mental shields lasted barely a minute. And then Xanatos was inside his mind, a great pressure prodding and pulling, stretching and digging to reach his very insides.

_How could he have forgotten? Qui-Gon had always said Xanatos was a master at the mental arts._

Obi-Wan struggled away from him, trying to escape Xanatos' cold grasp within his mind. But no matter where he turned Xanatos was there, demanding access to everything that was him.

_No! If he sees-_

"If I see what, little Kenobi? You're stoking my interests now."

The Temple. His mother. His father. His brother. His baby room. The grasslands of Naboo. The triple suns setting on Kilaton. The oceans of Hira Kuloo Mai. Obi-Wan tried to throw these images overtop the ones that Xanatos was pulling up. Regrettably he was to slow to cover one key, painful image. The heat was all consuming, all around them. It seeped into his very bones and making them ache with it. Against him, he felt Xanatos' body stiffen as the memory overwhelmed the Sith as well.

" _It's over, Anakin. I have the high ground."_

"Yes." The pressure in his mind increased a hundred fold. "Show me what I want to know. Who is this boy? This Anakin? Where is he? Is this he I see?" The fingers continued to pull, trying to unravel Obi-Wan's memories and view them in more than a fragmented sense.

"No..." Obi-Wan groaned.

" _Not even the younglings survived." The boy looked so innocent, as if he was in a deep sleep. The illusion only broken by the vertical slash alongside his body._

" _Killed not by clones, this Padawan. By a lightsaber, he was."_

" _Who? Who could have done this?"_

_Force…it can't be-_

"No!" Obi-Wan screamed as he tore his face away from Xanatos.

The Jedi reached deep inside himself, deep to his center core and found his grip on the Force. He gathered as much of it as he could in his state and threw it at the Sith. Xanatos flew backwards, catching himself on the desk across the room, his eyes wide and his mouth forming a tight, thin line. In a fierce, almost jerking motioned, Obi-Wan pushed his memories as far into himself as he could, and forming what he could of protective boundaries around them.

"Those are mine beast!" He snarled. The sound of his own voice brought Obi-Wan back from where ever it was he had temporarily gone and exhaustion over took him.

He had managed somehow to use a great deal of the Force under a large amount of inhibitors. Obi-Wan had never heard of it being done in such a way before; the Jedi did not know if his mind had the ability to handle the stress it caused. Obi-Wan fell to his knees, his hands clasping his head in a protective manner as a migraine the likes he'd never had before erupted behind his eyes, spreading quickly to his jaw and ears. Fear filled Obi-Wan as he felt his mind virtually collapsing around him. The world grew darker as unconsciousness swept easily through his mind.

Desperate for comfort of any kind, Obi-Wan reached out to the only source he had left.

* * *

Every muscle in Qui-Gon's body tensed even further and he found it increasingly hard to breathe. Every inch of his body was acutely aware that at this moment something horrible was happening to Obi-Wan Kenobi. Qui-Gon stood strained, a few feet away from the door where Xanatos and Obi-Wan had left. Running horizontally with his chest was the sharp red blade of Boden's lightsaber. It had taken only a fraction of a second to stop him after Qui-Gon had sprinted towards the door.

The Jedi Master reached out as far as he could towards the feeling, finding it incredibly hard to do with the Force inhibitors in his system. The feeling of dread was filling him to such an extent that Qui-Gon found himself unable to swallow. Boden made a clicking noise with his tongue as he shook his head.

"You should know better, Master Jedi. It's impolite to spy on other people's conversations. Or did they not teach that at your illustrious Temple?" He taunted, his blue eyes a lit with cruel humor. The anger that took Qui-Gon surprised him with its force. The fact that Obi-Wan was suffering for the sole reason of a mistake he made frustrated the man to an extent he had rarely ever felt.

The door slid open and Xanatos stumbled out, a dazed look on his face. Lying behind him was a crumpled Obi-Wan.

"Master?" Lowering his saber Boden rushed to his brother's side, supporting him. "What happened to you?" Qui-Gon rushed past the two and to Obi-Wan's side.

"Obi-Wan!"

_Obi-Wan!_

Obi-Wan stirred and a single eye opened to stare up at him. The haunted look in them took his breath away.

"Tired." The boy muttered.

"Rest." But Obi-Wan was already gone. Qui-Gon turned to stare at Xanatos. "What did you do to him?"

"Seal them in their quarters." Xanatos ordered angrily. "Get off of me!" He shouted, pushing Boden off and standing on his own. The office filled with guards, each with a blaster pointed directly at Qui-Gon.

"Xanatos! You will answer me!" It was the same tone he had used on Telos and Qui-Gon knew it. Xanatos froze before looking over his shoulder, a sneer on his face.

"Me? I did nothing more than take a look."

A wave of revulsion swept over Qui-Gon. He remembered how good his former apprentice had been at information gathering. "You raped his mind."

Xanatos' chuckle filled the room as good humor took his face once more. "Beware my good Master. That sounds a lot like hatred in your voice. Perhaps soon you'll find that that pedestal you put yourself on isn't quite as high as you thought."

Then he was gone. And after a curious look, so was Boden.

* * *

The room Xanatos had issued them was large enough to almost be considered a suite. The fresher was alone the size of the kitchen back in Qui-Gon's apartment. There was one bed, fitted with a golden comforter and blood red sheets. Xanatos' two favorite colors. Against the brilliant colors, Obi-Wan seemed deathly pale.

The boy had slept for almost eight hours. With each hour, he seemed to be improving and Qui-Gon dearly hoped that it was just a case of exhaustion that Obi-Wan was experiencing. He desperately wanted Obi-Wan to awaken. To tell him what not only what exactly had happened in that room, but also to reassure himself that no permanent damage had been done.

As for himself, Qui-Gon had not been able to sleep. Despite the fact that his body craved it, he was too preoccupied. He had searched the room twice, memorizing its exits and window. And now he was back on the bed, brooding as he watched over his charge. The Jedi couldn't get the past few days off his mind. He reviewed them repeatedly. Something seemed off, out of skew about them. The feeling that he was the last one to know something very important was striking him again, just as it had after the Sith meeting.

Obi-Wan knew something – perhaps something Xanatos knew or at least suspected. Yet, at the same time, it was more likely that Xanatos knew nothing at all and that was why he was so fascinated with Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon sighed and crossed his arms into his cloak sleeves, staring down at the sleeping boy. What was it about this boy? What was it that everyone but him saw?

What secret could Obi-Wan Kenobi possibly have in that mind of his?

* * *

Masters Yoda and Windu stood towards the center of the empty council room, both staring intently at the vid screen in front of them.

"Understand then, your task, Master Terlius?" Iian Terlius bowed in the vid screen, his braided hair falling with him.

"I will not fail."

"Know this, the council does." With a nod from Terlius the vid screen shut down. The two Masters stood in silence for a moment. Yoda glanced over at the worried youth by his side. His gimmer stick struck out quickly and efficiently, bringing Mace to his knees. "Fine hunter Master Terlius is. And connection with Kenobi his Padawan has." Yoda laid a claw on Mace's shoulder. "Find them they will."

"I certainly hope you're right."

* * *

In the red Secon II the Jedi Master Terlius clicked off the communicator and nodded. He would find Qui-Gon. This was his forte. He had never failed. The Master brought his missing back, dead or alive.

"Come on in, Padawan, I know you were listening." The cockpit door slid open and a similarly cloaked figure entered.

"Forgive me, Master. I did not mean to offend." Terlius waved him off. "Control tower, this is Secon II, requesting permission to take off."

"Secon II this is Control tower, permission granted. Have a safe flight Master Terlius and may the force be with you."

Nodding Terlius lifted the shuttle off the landing pad and began the accent upwards.

"Better buckle up, Padawan. This is going to be a bumpy flight."

Obeying without a word, Garen Muln slid into the copilot seat and strapped himself in.

* * *


	10. Revelations

Obi-Wan awoke suddenly and felt immediately refreshed. In fact, for the first time since this ordeal began – no, since before the start of the Clone Wars, exhaustion didn't seem to be clouding around the fringes of his consciousness.

The Jedi pulled himself into a sitting position and brought his hands up to rub the crusty sleep from his eyes. He stared around the dimmed room in confusion. When had he returned to the room? The door to the fresher unit hissed open and Qui-Gon stepped out, freshly damp from a shower. He looked instantly relieved as he caught sight of the vertical Obi-Wan.

"Good morning." The Jedi Master said as he crossed the room. He stood at the bedside; a look on his face that Obi-Wan had long ago learned meant he was nervous.

"Good morning." Obi-Wan answered, surprised at how rough his voice sounded before he erupted into dry coughs. Qui-Gon left his side and returned a moment later with a cup full of water. Obi-Wan gratefully began to gulp down the drink. He apologized between gulps.

"It's alright. Really to be expected, you've been asleep for almost two full days." Obi-Wan choked on his water. He turned to look at Qui-Gon in shock.

"Two days?" Obi-Wan shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. That was rare for him, even with being exhausted.

"Obi-Wan…" The tone in Qui-Gon's voice caught him by surprise and he looked up at the maverick Master. "I need to know what happened with Xanatos."

Obi-Wan frowned.

_With…Xanatos?_

Obi-Wan forced his mind to call up the last memories he had and frowned. That's right; he had used the Force under Force inhibitors. That was most likely why he'd slept so long, such an act had to be draining. But, the more he thought about it the more disturbed he became.

 _How did I do that? I've never been able to before…_ Obi-Wan fought with his memory, trying to recall as much as he could. It was hard – he had been so tired at the time…And suddenly he remembered. _Oh._

The fingers of his free hand flexed against the fabric and suddenly recoiled, clutching the cover in a fist. Obi-Wan could feel the plastic material of the cup strain under the hold of his other hand; it was all he could do to keep from cracking it. His forearm muscles tensed to such an extent that they shook slightly.

_Oh._

Obi-Wan could hardly convince himself to breathe.

_I used the Dark Side._

It had to be the only explanation. He was so tired and afraid. Afraid that Xanatos would find out about Anakin and do Force knows what with him – to him. And, he was afraid to have to relive those moments again. It had been so easy to do, that extra power was right there for him to use.

_It had been so easy…so easy just to reach out to my fear and anger and…_

Obi-Wan forced himself to swallow, wondering where the moisture he had just reacquired had gone.

_Force…I feel great._

It was true. Instead of exhausted he felt alive, empowered almost. He felt…

Obi-Wan shook his head.

_I can't believe how easy it was…_

Before he could even finish the thought, his mind was snapping at him.

_Of course it's easy! If it wasn't easy it wouldn't have stolen Anakin from beneath your nose, idiot!_

Never again, Obi-Wan vowed silently. Never again would he act out of such fear and passion. This was a path he could not – would not go down.

"Obi-Wan? What is it?" Qui-Gon's voice almost made him jump and as he stared up at his former Master Obi-Wan felt his tongue glue itself to the top of his mouth. There was no way he could tell Qui-Gon…if he did…Obi-Wan had no doubt that Qui-Gon would never take him as his apprentice.

_As foolish as it is, that's a risk I cannot take._

But it was more than that – he couldn't bear the thought of his former Master knowing he'd –

"Master Jinn…I…" He struggled for something, some excuse, some lie, just something to keep the Master away from him. Obi-Wan slid his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He shook his head, as if the act would clear his muddled thoughts. "Forgive me, Master Jinn. My thoughts are scattered. I need to meditate."

* * *

Qui-Gon shook his head as Obi-Wan climbed out of bed and made his way to an open portion of floor before proceeding to sit down. The boy wanted to meditate? Now? He'd waited two long days to hear what he needed! Moreover, judging from the way the boy had just reacted, Qui-Gon was sure it was a story he needed to hear; for the boy's well being. Surly meditation could wait.

"Obi-Wan-" The boy didn't let him finish.

"Master Jinn, please," The boy glanced up at him, his blue grey eyes cloudy. "I once heard that meditation brings wisdom and lack of it leaves only ignorance. I need some time to review what has happened before I can talk intelligently about it."

Qui-Gon blinked down at the boy and slowly brought his head to nod. That was the quote he had used with his first Padawan, and then on Xanatos whenever he did not want to meditate. In turn, it was the same saying his Master had often used on him.

To hear it coming from Obi-Wan's mouth was…strange.

"As you wish, Obi-Wan. But when you are done, we will talk." Qui-Gon's voice was stern and the boy nodded before allowing himself to slip away. Qui-Gon watched as the younger Jedi's eyes settled and his posture stilled. He stared down at the small form for a few moments before sighing and bringing himself into a knelling position in front of him.

Meditation would do his overworked mind good.

Much to Qui-Gon's frustration, he hadn't received his answers when the door to their room slid open. An amused Xanatos took the sight in before him.

"No, no." He made a lowering gesture as Qui-Gon stood. "No need to rise! Continue! I insist!" By his side Obi-Wan rose and Qui-Gon glanced from him to Xanatos as the two locked eyes. A slow, steady smile spread across Xanatos' face in response to Obi-Wan's icy glare. Qui-Gon knew the cocky, self-pleased smile far too well. It meant trouble.

"That was quite a little stunt you pulled there, young Padawan." Obi-Wan didn't respond to the bait. Xanatos shrugged, lifting black gloved hands up in defeat. "Well, well. I guess we'll never be friends shall we?"

"I'm afraid I don't have an urge to be friends with you, Xanatos." Obi-Wan said stoically, his voice oddly neutral compared to his eyes. Qui-Gon silently appraised the boy. Usually it was the reverse. Obi-Wan would make a good negotiator one day, if he could learn to keep his emotions completely at bay.

"You hurt me!" Xanatos said with a sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "It is of no matter though. I do suggest however, that you get dressed my little Padawan. Otherwise you're going to be late."

When Obi-Wan didn't move, Qui-Gon stood and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and nodded towards his clothes. Obi-Wan turned from him and quickly pulled on his outer robes and boots. Qui-Gon frowned for a moment as he watched the movements. What trickery did Xanatos have up his sleeve?

The Jedi Master recognized the path back to the entertainment room and frowned as he heard music blaring from inside. The door slid open and Qui-Gon was surprised when a roar of applause met them. Next to him, Obi-Wan stopped as if slapped, staring at the large crowd before them. He glanced up at Qui-Gon, his lips pressed into a thin line. Qui-Gon could almost hear Obi-Wan's unhappy question. Just what did Xanatos have planned?

"Ladies and Gentlemen! My wonderful friends! May I welcome you with such open arms to my ship! I hope you are having a wonderful time!" Again the roar of applause. Laughing full heartedly Xanatos quieted them down with his hands. "Well that makes me truly happy! And tonight, my beautiful ones, we truly have a wonderful treat!"

On cue, the guards pushed the two Jedi forward.

"May I introduce my most esteemed former Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, and his Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi!" There was applause again and a shuffling sound as people moved to see them. By his side Obi-Wan shifted and crossed his arms, his hands folding into the voluminous sleeves of his robe. His face was completely blank, a stoic look that Qui-Gon was quickly coming to recognize as an Obi-Wan trademark.

Still the stance was so eerily familiar that it gave Qui-Gon pause. He examined the boy next to him, pushing the sound of Xanatos and the crowd from his mind. The boy stood straight, his chin held level, staring at the crowd with calm, emotionless eyes. The boy looked…not like a boy, Qui-Gon realized with a jolt. Sensing his gaze Obi-Wan looked up at him. Qui-Gon had to admit, being the center of that alarming blank, docile stare was disconcerting. Obi-Wan's brow's furled in silent question. Qui-Gon gave him a brief smile before resting his hand on the boy's shoulder and turning his attention back to the crowd.

His suspicion from before was coming back in force. There was something…off about Obi-Wan Kenobi. Something was different, not as it should be. Before this was over Qui-Gon would know it, of that he was certain.

Xanatos finished his speech, leaving his crowd laughing merrily. He led the Jedi across the room as the crowd dispersed, with each person they passed stopping to stare. The dark man led them to the farthest corner where a platform rested a few feet above the floor. They climbed atop of it and Xanatos took his seat - his guards led Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to stand on either side of them.

"What are you planning, Xanatos?" Qui-Gon growled, his frustration with the situation getting the better of him.

"Patience, my dear Master, patience."

The Jedi Master set his jaw and crossed his arms, folding his hands into the cloak he wore, fighting to calm his anger before it could rule him. Boden paused mid climb, an amused look taking his face.

"Isn't that cute!" Boden chortled. "Brother, do you and I do that?" Qui-Gon glanced from himself to Obi-Wan and found with some mild amusement, that the boy almost mirrored his stance. Xanatos turned, looked at the two and chuckled.

"I hope not, my little one. It would show a considerable lack of originality on your part."

Boden snorted and took his seat at Xanatos' feet, lounging on a series of pillows placed there and looking instantly bored. The night passed on. Xanatos and Boden dined and the two Jedi were left to stand behind them.

Like pets, Qui-Gon thought darkly. The only real moment of unease for Qui-Gon came when a young lady made her favor for Xanatos known. Qui-Gon stiffened in distaste as the two began to have sex on his seat, regardless of anyone else's eyes. At their feet Boden looked even more bored and simply watched the party. Qui-Gon's eyes flew to Obi-Wan's face but found the teen glancing out over the party, his stoic mask firmly in place.

Qui-Gon felt his jaw muscles tighten until his jaw ached. To have Obi-Wan exposed to this! Qui-Gon forced himself to focus on the people moving below him, memorizing faces to identify once they left the party. When Qui-Gon had finally lost track of the hours Xanatos stood and the music cut off. He waited patiently while he gathered the attention of the party.

"My ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the main sporting event of the night. If I could have you all enter the risers please!" Qui-Gon stiffened as the party guests made their ways over to large metal platforms. The guards around Qui-Gon surrounded him, blasters in hand. He glanced over at Obi-Wan. The boy was stiff, his hands outside of his robe as he stared at the guards that had surrounded him, an injector in each hand.

Qui-Gon fought the urge to growl with frustration as he felt the all too familiar touch of an injector followed by the stream of cold force inhibitors entering his blood stream. He glanced sharply to his left as they saw them push Obi-Wan off the platform.

"Wait!" He surged forward but froze when a blaster was placed against Obi-Wan's head.

"What part of this situation do you not seem to understand, Qui-Gon?" Xanatos' voice was cold and laced with mockery. The Jedi glared back at him. "You have no say in any matter." Qui-Gon shook with anger as he watched the guards push Obi-Wan towards the deserted dance area. The platform began to rumble and rise. "Besides my old Master, I promise you, you will see everything."

Qui-Gon felt his heart freeze at Xanatos' words and the cruel look in his eyes. His gaze fled from Xanatos' face to Obi-Wan while panic began to overtake him. Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder as the guards dragged him away and the two locked eyes. The Jedi wanted to call after him. To break through the guards around him and go to the boy he had brought into this mess. He even wanted to beg Xanatos to let him go instead of the boy – the Jedi would have if he thought it would do some good. Yet, Qui-Gon knew it wouldn't. Xanatos had this planned. He wanted Qui-Gon to witness whatever was going to happen and to know that it was his fault, know that he alone had caused this pain to Obi-Wan.

His mouth was dry as the platform came to a stop several feet above the floor. The guards finished leading Obi-Wan to the dance floor and left him in the center of it, stepping off the glowing floor tiles. There was a cranking sound and dance floor shifted and changed. As Qui-Gon watched it shrugged, sending Obi-Wan to his knees as slender walls slid up on all sides, extending almost as high as the platform itself.

Qui-Gon's heart twisted as a trap door rose from the floor and a darkly clad figure stepped out.

* * *

Obi-Wan didn't recognize the man in front of him. But he knew one thing. He was a Sith, or at the very least a Dark Jedi, and the Dark Side radiated from him. He stared at Obi-Wan in boredom. Obi-Wan kept his body stance neutral as he observed the new comer. But inside he was reeling.

 _Force! Really now, this is getting ridiculous! How many_ are _there?_ It didn't matter, Obi-Wan thought darkly. _I'll kill you too._

Xanatos' voice filled the room.

"Now my young Kenobi, this is Sailine. A guess you could call him a…freelance entertainer." Sailine snorted in amusement at this description. "Do you remember that charming young woman you met not too long ago? The one with the rather ugly pet?"

Obi-Wan nodded curtly.

"Well this is one of her first apprentices, a Jedi Padawan at the start no less! Sailine, this is the Padawan of my old Master. You be sure to treat him nicely now."

"I'll try my, Lord Xanatos." Sailine said in a rumbling voice.

"Now, Obi-Wan. You'll notice I haven't given you any more Force inhibitors. I've decided that this shall be a fair fight…well…sort of." Obi-Wan's body tightened at his words. He gently reached out to the Force and his knees almost buckled at its welcome presence. He would need it, Obi-Wan thought as he focused on the man in front of him. "Sailine give him the lightsaber."

Still bored, Sailine tossed a silver object at him. Obi-Wan caught it and frowned. Once again, it was not his own. Not for the last time, Obi-Wan wondered how many of his own had come before him.

"Now this is simple, you fight to the death. Naturally, the winner lives!" There were cheers from the spectators that stared down from around the stands. "Now, the betting booths are open – but not for long! So hurry! I wish you all the best of luck!"

Obi-Wan allowed himself to sink to his knees, gathering the Force around him silently as he centered himself and washed the last bit of drugs from his system. The Jedi heard the soft buzz of the camera droids hovering around him. He ignored them and focused on steadying himself for what was to come. Xanatos rambled on about betting rules for a few more minutes before barking sharply for the fight to begin.

The words had barely left his mouth when Sailine was upon him. Obi-Wan blocked viciously, cursing as the Sith pushed him backwards. He tried to side step out of the charge but Sailine prevented him, attacking with the same blasé attitude on his face. As a last resort the younger boy sent out a violent Force push, sending Sailine staggering backwards. Obi-Wan spun out of his path, slashing violently at Sailine's back and side. The Sith hissed and jumped out of the way, kicking off the wall and propelling himself towards Obi-Wan. He spun out of way again, fleeing from the Sith's area.

_This isn't going to work._

Obi-Wan stared at the Sith, the purple blade rising and falling with his breath as the Sith stared at him in annoyance. His glance traveled to Qui-Gon. The Master was standing at the edge of Xanatos' platform, gripping the railing and staring at him. Even from the distance Obi-Wan could see that the Jedi Master was pale.

_But if I do this in front of him-_

The Sith charged him and again it was an act Obi-Wan narrowly avoided, slashing widely at the Sith's back. If he did this, he could no longer pretend to be just a twelve-year-old boy. Qui-Gon would see – Xanatos would see. There would be no going back.

But, as the Sith charged him again Obi-Wan set his jaw. He had no choice.

* * *

Qui-Gon saw the shift in Obi-Wan just before Xanatos went stiff by his side. Obi-Wan slid into another stance, rising his lightsaber in front, facing the Sith. Qui-Gon's eyes widened as Obi-Wan shot forward. The Sith stumbled in his charge, startled by the sudden change.

Obi-Wan's blade clashed against Sailine's and Qui-Gon felt his eyes widen as Obi-Wan forced the Sith back. Sailine stumbled and rolled out of the way, barely missing the downward sweep of Obi-Wan's lightsaber. The man flipped to his feet and once again took the offensive. But Obi-Wan refused to be driven back. Instead, the two warriors swirled along each other, Obi-Wan moving with a forceful elegance that left Qui-Gon incapable of thought.

_It wasn't possible._

How could the boy know how to fight like that? Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan steadily drove the Sith back, his lightsaber blows strong and efficient. Elegant, everything about how he moved was elegant. And underneath each move Qui-Gon could see the presence of cold, hard experience. There was no move that the Sith made that caught Obi-Wan at unawares, no turn or leap or downwards sweep that wasn't meet with equal fervor.

The Jedi Master was watching an impossibility.

Because Obi-Wan was twelve. A child. And this entire fight was an impossibility. Despite this, the fight below him went on. The two blades flashed so quickly that Qui-Gon could barely follow them without the aid of the Force. Meanwhile, the crowd was leaning forward, attempting, and failing to follow what was going on. The Sith flipped backwards in an attempt to escape the non-stop barrage but as he landed Obi-Wan was already there, his blade coming down. The man blocked him, but the force of the blow caused his legs to slide out. As Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan began to force the locked sabers towards Sailine's face.

"Master, can you feel that?" Boden whispered from somewhere behind them. Xanatos' response was lost on Qui-Gon as Sailine's knees buckled in and the Sith crashed to the floor. He could hardly believe the sight in front of him. A fully-grown Sith brought to his knees by a twelve year old Jedi Initiate!

Suddenly, it was over. With a twist of his wrist, Obi-Wan sent the red lightsaber flying behind him. Sailine was dead before it touched the floor. The crowd was silent. Qui-Gon could only stare as Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber before switching his gaze to his surroundings.

By his side Xanatos began to clap, the sound of it echoing oddly in the silent room. "Bravo, little Jedi." His voice echoed across the room. "I must say, you surprised me."

Qui-Gon turned to look at his former apprentice. Xanatos turned off the microphone before turning to face him.

"That is quite an apprentice you have there, Master mine. I had no idea he possessed such skill; you should have shared! I would have gotten him…" His sentence faded off as he looked up at Qui-Gon. Then Xanatos began to laugh. "Are you telling me you did not know he was capable of that little feat? My, my, my! What an enigma we truly have here! My dear, dear, old Master! Just who is this Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

As he turned to stare down at the unmoving Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon couldn't help but wonder the same.

* * *

The doors to their quarters slid shut and Obi-Wan brought his hand to rub the now very sore inhibitor patch.

_They could pick a different spot every now and then._

The Jedi shook his head darkly before forcing himself to take a deep breath. How long had Obi-Wan thought he could keep this game up? Especially now? How long?

_Longer then this…as long as I could._

But he had no other choice then to come face to face with his demons now. The silent, brooding Qui-Gon behind him was a clear sign of that. Obi-Wan forced himself to take a deep breath before turning around to face his former Master.

The Jedi Master watched him as he moved to the bed and sat down, removing his outer robe, his boots and socks following. After the continued silence, Obi-Wan sighed and looked up. Qui-Gon had not moved and Obi-Wan found, with a bit of trepidation, that for once he could not read the look on the Master's face.

"Master Jinn, I-"

"What was that?" Qui-Gon asked harshly. Obi-Wan swallowed hard but forced himself to keep the Master's gaze.

"What was what?" The words had barely escaped his mouth before Obi-Wan realized he had said the wrong thing. The Jedi Master nearly rushed the bed, yanking the younger into a half standing, half kneeling position. The large Master's hands felt like vice grips on his arms.

"What was what?" The Master's voice wavered angrily. "What was _that,_ Obi-Wan! Twelve year old Initiates do not fight like that!"

"Master Jinn-"

"Don't you Master Jinn me boy!" He shook Obi-Wan wildly. "I am not daft, child! What is going on? Where did you learn to kill like that! There wasn't a single moment of hesitation!"

Obi-Wan felt the energy leave his body. His body sagged down slightly and Qui-Gon became the only thing keeping him erect. He focused on the rough fabric of the Master's shirt.

_I knew this would happen…some point I knew this would. Yet, I have no answer to give him._

"Answer me!" Though Obi-Wan Kenobi was once a full Jedi Master and General, he could not bring himself to overlook Qui-Gon's command. He forced his still tongue to move.

"If you hesitate the chance is lost." He answered, his voice sounding old and tired. The Jedi's body ached as it hung from the Master's grip. It felt as if his age had finally caught up with him. Old wounds that did not exist yet flared and caused his body to throb. The pain in his heart – a constant occurrence since his arrival – grew with each heartbeat. Desperately he wanted to bring his hands to rub the spiking ache there, yet he could not bring them to move. His body felt like lead.

Obi-Wan did not want to look up. He could feel the weight of Qui-Gon's gaze upon him, to see it would be too much.

"I see." The Master's words were crisp. "You know this how? How many people have you killed, Obi-Wan?"

"Oh," He sighed. "I've lost count." The grip on his arms tightened. Though it hurt him, Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon was unaware.

"What?"

"I've killed many. Naturally, it was not my preference. But in desperate times, one must do as they must."

"Desperate times." Qui-Gon's repeated, his voice emotionless. Obi-Wan nodded slowly.

"Yes." The image of the Temple, burning and full of death filled his mind. The vid of Anakin making his way through the hallways with the Clone Troopers flashed across his eyes and the Jedi could almost smell the death in the air. He felt his throat tighten and found it incredibly painful to swallow. "Oh yes."

Unwillingly he recalled the pain – that terrible ache – that had filled him when Order 66 came into effect. His body shuddered as he remembered the shatter in the Force - an endless scream of loss that built in volume as more and more joined it, until it had been so overwhelming that the Jedi Master had dropped to his knees and echoed it verbally. Obi-Wan's heart beat erratically, causing his breath to come at odd intervals.

"Terrible times." His hands moved on their own accord, grasping Qui-Gon's forearms. The Master stiffened under the light grip.

* * *

"Master," Qui-Gon froze as the word slid out of the boy's mouth. It was the first time he had heard Obi-Wan speak so informally to him. "Master."

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon warned, "I am not your master."

Nor would he even want to be until he understood what allowed Obi-Wan Kenobi to kill so easily: to fight as he did. He could be a greater threat than anything Xanatos could conceive. There was something wrong with Obi-Wan, something that to the Master's greatest frustration, still existed just beyond his reach.

Slowly, as if his head were weighted down, Obi-Wan looked up at him. Whatever words Qui-Gon was going to say died in his mouth as he saw the pure devastation on Obi-Wan's face.

"But you are. You were."

"When could I have been your master, Obi-Wan?"

"Before I died."

Qui-Gon felt his body twitch with those three words. The look on Obi-Wan's face, the tone with which he had said it...Obi-Wan truly believed this. It left Qui-Gon with only one possible conclusion.

The boy had lost his mind.


	11. The Way Things Must Be

Qui-Gon watched as a bitter sigh escaped the boy. Obi-Wan pulled himself out of the larger man's grip and turned away from him, a hand rising to rub his forehead. Qui-Gon watched in muted silence as the boy sat down, his movements stiff and tired. What was it that Obi-Wan wanted him to believe? The boy's words made no sense. How could he have possibly died before? How could Qui-Gon have been his Master? It made absolutely no sense.

"I hadn't meant to tell you that." Unlike the tortured tone he had been using, this one was level but tense, carrying an exhaustion that caught Qui-Gon off guard. Obi-Wan's hand rubbed at his chest in small, absent-minded circles. "But I am just too tired and too confused."

Qui-Gon felt like they were talking in circles. At this rate, Xanatos would be back before he got the answers he wanted. He folded his arms in an unconscious attempt to keep his discontent from showing. To his surprise, Obi-Wan smirked at the action.

"I inherited that from you, you know." He gestured to the crossed arms. "As well as several other 'bad' social habits. I used to be taunted endlessly about them. Though I suppose we ought to blame Dooku for those."

"Master Dooku."

As if on a pulled string, Obi-Wan's shoulders went rigid, only to relax a second later as an apologetic smile took his face. "Of course, Master Dooku, forgive me."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. My former Master and I hardly share any 'habits.'" Qui-Gon vaguely thought he heard the boy snort in humor and the Jedi Master's eyes narrowed. Qui-Gon tried to with hold his frustration from his voice, but found his next words sharp. "What are you trying to tell me Obi-Wan? I'm tired of this game. Just tell me."

Obi-Wan went still in front of him. Almost achingly slowly, the boy's head titled up to look at him, his gaze locking with Qui-Gon's. For a moment, he thought Obi-Wan would keep his stubborn silence, but then the boy shifted a flash of pink darting across cracked lips.

"You will not believe me. But I suppose that cannot be helped." The boy clasped his hands tightly in front of him, his eyes dark with emotion as he stared at his feet. "The Obi-Wan Kenobi you see before you no longer exists, this body is who I was twenty-five years ago."

"What?"

Obi-Wan sent him an appraising look for a moment before scratching the back of his head in an almost embarrassed movement. "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing in my past self's body. One moment I'm dying and the next I'm vomiting all over the main hall."

"Are you trying to tell me you're from the future?" The disbelief in the Jedi Master's voice was thick and the boy shot him an annoyed look before shaking his head.

"I said you wouldn't believe me."

"Obi-Wan-"

"It was so hard." Obi-Wan interrupted in a dark, strained voice. "So hard to see the things I have. To have done the things I have. When I was young," the boy made a wide gesture to himself, "even in my wildest dreams - or nightmares - I never thought I would have done the things I have. Things I have had to do."

The boy leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees and cradling his head in his hands. For a moment, Obi-Wan seemed so much younger then twelve and Qui-Gon fought the strange urge to rest his hand on the slightly quivering head.

"I have no idea why I'm here. What could I, of all people, have possibly done to earn the right to be sent back, to be by the side of those who I love – your side once more – is beyond anything I can comprehend. To walk the halls of my home…to see those that will-" He ended abruptly and Qui-Gon could hear the dry croak as the boy swallowed. "I have not yet figure out if...if this is a blessing or a curse."

Qui-Gon stared at the boy, his lips in a thin line. Some part of him was tugging, almost violently, towards Obi-Wan. He refused to indulge it. Qui-Gon had absolutely no proof that what the child was speaking wasn't pure insanity. Obi-Wan lifted his head from his hands and lifted his eyes to look up at him. The intensity held in the blue-grey gaze caused Qui-Gon to stiffen.

"I never, _ever_ , thought I'd be one of the last."

Qui-Gon froze. Unwillingly, his mind flashed back to the holding cell.

" _He kills them all!"_

How easily those four words had sent unease into his mind, and coupled with this new line, a strong sense of dread had wrapped itself firmly around his heart. Obi-Wan shook his head, his gaze returning once more to his clasped hands.

"The concept quite literally never crossed my mind. It's absurd! To think that my own-" Obi-Wan cut himself off before sighing, bringing a slightly shaking hand up to wipe at his eyes. Qui-Gon watched as the boy brought his other hand up, rubbing both eyes harshly. He tried to start to speak again, but the word was so strangled with emotion that Qui-Gon found he couldn't understand it.

Qui-Gon was good at he did, he had to be or else the Council wouldn't send him on the missions they did. He was a master negotiator, a nearly perfect diplomat. It was no secret that he had an affinity for telling when someone was lying. Currently, that was why his mind was in a whirl, trying to process the information the grief stricken boy was placing forth. Because Obi-Wan Kenobi _wasn't_ lying. His words rang with truth – and Qui-Gon didn't need the Force to tell that the boy's emotions were real.

Unfortunately, this left him in a predicament. His logic was shirking from the implication of the boy's words, yet his instinct - the very thing that had guided Qui-Gon his entire life – was pushing him towards belief. Not for the first time since their capture, Qui-Gon wished he had the guiding light of the Force. It was clear that in the boy's turmoil he had lowered his defenses and had Qui-Gon access to the Force, the validity of Obi-Wan's words and the stability of his mind would have been established immediately.

But, he did not have the Force.

Rarely had Qui-Gon's instincts led him astray, but the few times it had the results had been disastrous. He could only hope that this was not one of those moments. He was aware that Obi-Wan was watching him, waiting for his response. The boy would not get one – because at that moment the lock on their door exploded with a hiss.

* * *

Obi-Wan leapt to his feet, his hands reaching instinctively for his lightsaber only to wince when his hand met air. Seconds later the doors slid open with a disgruntled groan and Obi-Wan nearly fell over in shock. A black clad teenager stood in the doorway, cheerfully tossing a hack pad up and down in his hands. He flashed them a cheery grin, his teeth alarming white against his blacked out face as he gave them a cheerful wave.

"…Garen?" Obi-Wan breathed in disbelief.

An even wider grin, then;

"Heya, Obi-Wan. Hope I'm not interrupting anything." Obi-Wan's strong sense of irony must have shown on his face because a confused look flashed across Garen's face. "Was I interrupting anything?"

"You were not, Padawan Muln." Qui-Gon said stiffly. "Where is Master Terlius?"

"Master's securing our escape." Garen explained as he slid the bag off of his shoulder and set it on the ground. He pulled out a long, thin briefcase. It opened to reveal a mini med kit and multiple bottles of a thin, purple substance that Obi-Wan instantly recognized as DF15, the only successful agent that worked against Force suppressants. It did, however, have some nasty side effects. "Sorry it took us this long to find you, this ship is huge. You might want to put some shoes on Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan blinked as he stared down at his bare feet. A minute later and he was fully clad, watching as Garen injected Qui-Gon.

"The antidote will take at least twenty minutes to take effect, maybe thirty. It varies from person to person." Garen reloaded the injector and approached his comrade and as he held the cold metal against Obi-Wan's neck, he threw his rather depressed looking friend a cheeky grin. "You better not make this into a habit, Kenobi. What are you going to do when I'm not around to save you?"

He barely felt the sting of the injector. Obi-Wan felt his realities blur and swallowed – hard – as a familiar pain radiated from his heart. He was gone, far away to another ship in another time but an extremely similar situation. But Garen hadn't been smiling then.

_The face of Garen Muln was cast in an eerie green glow by the computers. It took Obi-Wan a moment to recognize it through the haze of drugs and Force suppressants in his body. The dark haired Knight's face was grim as he tore the wires and straps that held his body down. Obi-Wan let out a hiss of pain as the pilot lifted him into a sitting position._

" _Damn, Kenobi. What did they do to you? You look like absolute shit."_

" _Thanks." Obi-Wan said dryly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He slid out of the bed only to find his leg muscles buckling. Garen caught him before he had a chance to hit the floor and slung Obi-Wan's arm over his shoulders. The younger Jedi struggled to get his weak legs to take more of his weight but Garen stilled him a soft wave of the Force. Obi-Wan felt his eyes close at the pleasure of the familiar touch. He had been without the Force for entirely too long._

" _Relax, old friend." He said gently as he shifted Obi-Wan's weight so he could walk easier. "I got this. Just hold on to me."_

" _Where's-"_

" _Anakin's waiting with the ship."_

" _How did you find me? They-"_

" _Seriously, Obi-Wan? Did you forget who trained me?" Garen whistled slightly as they made their way down the hallway at a painfully slow pace. "Man, you have_ got _to break this habit. I'm not always gonna be around to save you."_

" _Shut it, Muln."_

"Obi-Wan?" Reality found him staring into the concerned eyes of a much younger and a very much alive Garen Muln. Obi-Wan blinked, fighting the sudden urge to envelop the slightly taller boy in a hug. He hadn't seen Garen since his return. Unbidden the image of a bodiless pyre, flames licking various trinkets and clothing until they were nothing but piles of black ash, filled his mind. The thick, heady smell of smoke filled his nostrils, and had it not been for Qui-Gon's call for them to move Obi-Wan may have very well slipped back into his memories.

Elegant black brows furled and Obi-Wan watched as confusion replaced concern on Garen's face. Obi-Wan could literally see the wheels turning.

_Garen was always a sharp one._

The sound of blaster fire interrupted them and Obi-Wan pulled away from his friend, accepting the blaster offered by Qui-Gon. Garen had known Obi-Wan for nearly his entire life. From the moment Obi-Wan had first been partnered with him in Introduction to Concepts of the Unifying Force, the two had been inseparable. As he examined what he considered to be a grossly outdated model, he could literally feel Garen's gaze burning against his back.

_I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, Bant knew something was off as well._

The dark haired boy stood by his side, watching him with narrowed eyes. "Obi-Wan, what-"

"Not now, Garen." Obi-Wan said softly, watching the displeasure grow across the older boy's face.

Obi-Wan slipped the safety off the blaster, ignoring the look of surprise from Garen. He quickly slid the main power cell off and tore out the safety unit completely. He tossed the slightly sparking chip block to the side and snapped the model back together. While it would greatly boost the blaster's power, it was more prone to overheating. It was an old trick he'd picked up as a Padawan - from Qui-Gon no less.

A quick glance found the older Jedi watching him with unreadable eyes, then, "Watch that it doesn't overheat."

Obi-Wan nodded as he pulled his cloak on. "Let's go."

* * *

Jedi Master Iian Terlius was a rather attractive humanoid – in fact, he was an extremely attractive humanoid. His looks had always given him an upper hand. In fact, most people's first reaction to his appearance was to stare in a stunned silence while he quickly and cheerfully disarmed them. Male and female alike, it seemed that Iian always managed to strike most everyone's fancy.

It really wasn't his fault.

He was a member of the Iillam. A dying race. Their numbers were well below a hundred. Iian himself had only seen two others of his own kind in twenty-eight years. They had no home world – at least none that anyone remembered – and so spent their days roaming the universe. Undistinguishable from a human to those who didn't know better, the Iillam survived by using their beauty to charm their way to whatever it was they wanted.

But an Iillam could always recognize another of their kind. This was currently why Iian was standing in a dark security room, with his lips pressed in a thin line. While he should be returning the two lightsabers he'd just painstaking reclaimed to their owners, he found himself staring at a paused vid. His beauty took on a dark, dangerous look as he stared at the image of a blond figure.

So for once the snake hadn't been lying.

_Xanatos snarled at him as Iian swirled just out of reach of his red blade. The lightsabers of Jinn and the boy – Kenobi - hung safely from his belt, wrestled from the jaws of Xanatos himself. Now all he had to do was escape. While Iian had never liked the cocky rogue, he was aware of just how good the man was with a lightsaber._

_Xanatos lips worked in over time, trying to talk him into compliance. Being a creature of flash and beauty himself allowed Iian to easily see through the snake's manipulative ways. Instead, he used the conversation to allow him to step closer to the armory's doorway - and freedom._

" _Not so confident now, are you,_ Xanti. _" Iian hissed. The use of the childhood nickname only seemed to enrage Xanatos even more. "I always knew you were going to flunk out. Now look at what you've become, you traitorous beast!" Instead of further irritating the man, the pale rogue simply chuckled to himself. A black gloved finger shook itself in Iian's direction._

" _You shouldn't be so judgmental, dear Iian. After all, damning me is like damning your own blood."_

" _What's that supposed to mean?" Iian asked, taking another step towards the door. Whatever it was Xanatos was thinking about, Iian only hoped he'd keep thinking about it, as the pale man didn't seem to notice his growing proximity to the exit._

" _Why, your own sister has chosen to walk the same path as I." A finger pressed itself against his lips in thought, "Hm, I wonder if that means you have the same chance at becoming…what is it that you called me? Ah yes, a 'traitorous beast.'"_

" _You lie! My sister is dead!"_

_Xanatos threw his hands up in defeat. "It's such a shame to see such a…gifted man lie to himself."_

After hearing that he'd denoted the smoke bombs he'd hidden in the room's corners and fled. Yet Xanatos' words stayed with him.

She was alive. He'd known. Iian realized now he'd always known, he just didn't want to think about what it meant. He felt a now familiar Force presence and then a brush of worry across the training bond. Iian shook himself out of his daze at the touch of his Padawan's mind. He'd never really thought he'd take another student after Kio, but then along came Garen and the pilot wannabe was just so much like Iian at thirteen.

There was a second wave of worry and guilt filled him as he quickly caught the Force probe and sent it back to his padawan reassuringly. After a second of thought, he removed the security vid data disk and slipped it in his pocket. He would deal with this later.

_I'm coming._

They hadn't quite yet mastered full words, but Iian knew their bond had matured enough for Garen to get the jist of what he was saying. He raced quietly down the hallways.

* * *

The mechanics room was just barely large enough for all three of them to crouch together. Obi-Wan stared out the silted door, a sliver of light playing across his face. Directly across from him was Master Jinn, who was in turn studying him as intensely as Obi-Wan was the hallway. The older Jedi's face was unreadable to Garen, yet the fact that his eyes never left his friend's face spoke volumes to him. Could they have become Master and Padawan? While he hoped so, somehow Garen didn't think that was quite right.

His eyes slid to his oldest friend. The Force radiated outward around him, flexing and swirling as it worked to override the suppressants in Obi-Wan's system. However, it was much more then just that. It was as if Obi-Wan's very Force signature had changed. It was still him just much…deeper. That was the only word Garen could think of. How was that even possible? He made a note to ask his Master about it the next time they were alone together.

Obi-Wan's eyes flickered to meet his own and Garen stiffened at the unbridled emotions that resided there. The younger teen offered him a reassuring smile that did anything but. Shaking his head, Garen dropped his glace to the plated floor.

It wasn't the first time he had noticed it. It was apparent to him within the first few moments they were together. Something was wrong, something was…off. A strange, thick air of melancholy hung around his friend, as if he'd lost something or someone that was greatly important to him. Somehow, it seemed as if Obi-Wan had lost the bright innocence that had first drawn Garen to his side. It was almost as if he had aged.

Could it have been his inability to become a padawan that had brought about this change in his friend? While that seemed to be the only logical explanation, somehow Garen knew it wasn't the source for such emotion. But it was so much more then just what the Force pointed out to him. It was the way Obi-Wan moved, the way he spoke, the way he acted. Force, even the way he was crouching now seemed out of place for the clumsy Obi-Wan he knew.

What could have possibly happened those few months he was away? If Bant was to be believed, the 'off-ness' was a recent development. Surely, she hadn't seen the same thing he was now or else the distress in her message would have been much greater. When he looked up again, it was to find Obi-Wan's signature gray blue eyes watching him. Garen swallowed as a feeling evaluation filled him. To his surprise, he found himself unable to hold Obi-Wan's gaze and dropped his once again to the floor. He could feel his discontent twisting across his face.

He and Obi-Wan had been friends forever. Garen honestly didn't have a childhood memory after the age of six that didn't involve him. While Obi-Wan had always been a few steps behind him in lessons because of the age difference, they had always ended up on the same path. Yet now it seemed as if his friend had gone some place Garen couldn't follow. Anger sprung up at that thought, hot and thick in his chest.

"Obi-Wan," Garen muttered, trying to suppress the hot emotion that threatened to engulf him, "What the hell is going on?"

Garen rested a hand against the wall to steady himself as he crouched. Even without full use of the Force he knew that Obi-Wan could feel the anger radiating off of him. But more then anger, Garen realized, there was fear. Fear for Obi-Wan. The pilot let out a violent sigh before looking up at him.

"Garen, later-"

"No! Not later! Now! What is going on? Why are you – I don't understand how-" He let out another sound of frustration. The sympathy with which his friend watched him now only served to fuel his irritation. "You're not going to answer me, are you?"

Obi-Wan said nothing, then, "Master Terlius is here."

Garen stood abruptly, and pushed past Obi-Wan, nearly knocking the other boy down in his anger. However, the sight of his ethereal Master somehow managed instantly to soothe his anger, even more so when Iian placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Garen could feel the concern and questions from his Master but he shook his head violently.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed and then removed itself. Garen barely heard the conversation that took place between the two Masters. He could feel Obi-Wan's eyes on him, but Garen couldn't bring himself to look at him again. For some unexplained reason, Garen suddenly felt like he had lost his friend.

* * *

"A pleasure to see you again, Master Jinn." Iian Terlius was exactly as Obi-Wan had remembered. The sight of the tall, dark haired humanoid was welcomed. Iian's specialty was retrieval. And until his death, he had never failed. They had become close friends after Obi-Wan had become a Knight, doubly so after Garen's death. Obi-Wan trusted the older Master greatly and knew without hesitation that Iian would get them out of Xanatos' grasp.

Though he knew it would be so, Obi-Wan felt his heart sink as the Jedi Master looked at him with unfamiliar eyes. If all had run along the lines of the past, he and the Iillam Master had yet to meet. Who knew if the friendship they had once shared would be duplicated in this timeline?

The Master's amber eyes narrowed slightly as he watched him. Obi-Wan held his ground, keeping his eyes and face neutral. Iian had always been protective of Garen, especially after how Padawan Kio had died. It was clear that the older Jedi knew that he was the cause for his padawan's pain.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, I presume? I must admit," Again the amber eyes gave him an appraising look, "Though Garen has told me much about you, you are nothing as to what I imagined."

"Things seldom are how we imagine them." He said sharply, meeting Iian's hostility. "Nor are they as they seem." Obi-Wan ignored the look of surprise that flashed across the older Jedi's face. Sometimes all it took to get Iian to back down was show of equal or greater force. It was not something a twelve year old would know to do at all. At the moment, Obi-Wan didn't care.

He was in no mood to pretend.

Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "I take it you have retrieved our lightsabers, Iian?" The Iillam Jedi nodded slowly before reaching inside his robe and unclipping the lightsabers that hung from his belt. The moment the comfortable weight of his lightsaber was in his hand, Obi-Wan felt relief wash over him. At last, he was reunited with not only his weapon, but with the Force. He could feel the start of its familiar presence on the fringes of his consciousness. It would not be much longer before it returned in full.

"Alright then kiddies, we should take our leave." Iian said cheerfully, patting his padawan on the back. "You did well, Garen."

Obi-Wan felt a twinge of guilt as the compliment failed to raise his distraught friend's mood. Iian frowned, worry lines creasing his forehead.

"Come on," Iian said softly, leading his padawan away by the shoulder. "We should get to the escape pods."

Obi-Wan followed behind the group at a gentle trot. His eyes followed the form of his friend, his lips drawn in a thin line. If only he could somehow reassure his friend-

" _Padawan! No!"_

The thought was as violent as it was seemingly unprovoked. The pain in his heart suddenly erupted in force, shooting little tendrils of fire outwards from his core. He stumbled with a gasp, his hand flying to rub his chest while the other found its way to the hallway wall for support. He bent in half, suddenly finding it impossible to get his lungs full. It took him a moment to realize that Iian's anguish scream was in his head and instinctively his eyes shot up to find Garen. To his relief, the pilot was not only alive, but still very much a fifteen year old. Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut as the pain intensified.

He could feel the Force around him, clearly for the first time in days. He grasped at it, trying to find a center to push away the overwhelming sadness that had suddenly engulfed him. Instead, it found only his discomfort and instead of containing, it only echoed his pain. Obi-Wan fought to keep it from broadcasting his hurt to the others, finding it a nearly impossible thing to do as his heart contracted painfully.

The lines of reality were stretching, blurring. For the second time Obi-Wan found himself unsure of where – or when – he was.

_Iian collapsed in on himself, staring at the still smoldering wreck of fire and twisted metal that had once been Garen Muln's ship. Obi-Wan stood stock still, his wounds preventing him from moving much. The Force was singing its loss in his ears, whispering to him that this was no trick. That Garen was truly dead._

_Sorrow sung inside. Garen had only lost control of his ship because of the wounds he had attained while rescuing Obi-Wan. Despite his injuries and the condition of his ship, Garen had somehow managed to eject Anakin and Obi-Wan before the ship had exploded in the landing bay._

" _Not another one." Iian's hands slid up against the dock viewing window, his hands almost cupping the wreck. The Iillam pressed his forehead against the glass; his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "Please! Don't take another one away from me!"_

_Obi-Wan's grief was palpable, his saliva suddenly forming a thick, sticky substance that made his tongue seem too large for his mouth. His hand grasping his injured arm tightened. The pain that the action caused flared sharply up to his shoulder, but Obi-Wan found it easily ignorable._

_Another lost face to add to his memory. Another friend, another colleague lost in this stupid war._

_Eventually he became aware of another presence by his side, silently bearing witness to the now still battlefield. Obi-Wan forced his eyes to focus – a hard thing to do between the pain meds and his grief – and found that the battle was indeed over. By his side his padawan stood, silent with his own pain._

_Garen and Anakin had always gotten along. Something about their personalities and love for mechanics had bonded them easily. His padawan was struggling, trying to find the words to say something. A quick look at Anakin and Obi-Wan knew instantly what it was._

" _I know, Anakin. You did your best."_

_Anakin visibly deflated, his shoulders taking on a slumped, defeated angle. Obi-Wan shifted so he could reach out with his good arm, and lay a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder. Obi-Wan sent soft, cooling waves of the Force through his touch. It was not untainted by his own grief, but it would have to be enough._

_Iian had grown still by the window and as much as Obi-Wan wanted to go to him, he knew that it was not what the other man needed. Instead, he reached for Anakin and guided him out of the small viewing room. As the doors shut behind him, Obi-Wan couldn't help but thank whatever gods there were that his Padawan had made it through yet another fight. That he hadn't loss both of them._

A strong hand rested itself on forehead, another sliding across the bridge of his neck. The Force brushed across his mind, sending a faint but nonetheless present feeling of calm.

_Qui-Gon._

A brief glance up revealed the much taller Jedi hovering over him, Qui-Gon's face a mix of curiosity and something else Obi-Wan couldn't quite identify. Before he had a chance, the emotion was gone and Obi-Wan found himself once again firmly rooted in the past.

"Is he alright?" Iian asked gruffly, nearly prancing on his feet. They both knew the longer they stayed here the more likely it was they were going to run into Xanatos.

"I'm fine." Obi-Wan managed as he pushed off from the wall. "Let's go."

"Good because we're really pushing it here." Iian said sharply, glancing at a chrono on his wrist. "It isn't going to take Xanatos long to figure out where we are. We need to book it."

By his side, Qui-Gon stiffened. "You plan on leaving Xanatos free?"

"Listen, another response team will come and take care of him. My mission is to return you and Initiate Kenobi to the Temple unharmed." Qui-Gon moved to argue but Iian pointed at the still pale Obi-Wan. "Do you really want to risk it with the kid's health being what it is?"

Qui-Gon's lips pressed together so hard they actually lost their color. Obi-Wan knew the battle was far from over. Qui-Gon was dead set on apprehending Xanatos.

_He probably means to leave us at the pods._

Somehow he'd have to find a way to get him on that pod. Surely, after being with the man for so many years he'd be able to at least assure that. The pain in his heart was slowly leaving him, yet it still kept him from following the others at full pace. Obi-Wan tugged at the Force to speed his legs. It was quickly reaching full voice, breaking down and removing the represents in his body. To his delight, he found it flowing easily once more into him, only slightly muted. He reached out to it, pulling it around him like a security blanket.

Then it hit him. Obi-Wan realized what he had to do. He could feel the grim look that took his face as he considered the full implications of his plan. No one, not even himself, was going to like it very much.

* * *

Obi-Wan was keeping up. That was good. The boy's health was starting to bother him. He hadn't realized it until just a few moments ago, but he had noticed Obi-Wan grasping at his heart on several different occasions. Why in the Force's good name had it taken him so long to notice? Yet another digression for him to think over in his mediations. The more Qui-Gon looked, the more he seemed to be finding things he had missed. How could he have been so blind so as not to see the oddities of Obi-Wan?

Regardless, the boy was clearly not meant to be a farmer. He would return back to the Temple with Terlius. And Qui-Gon would stay and deal with Xanatos. Too long had his errant Padawan run free without consequences. Terlius did not know Xanatos as Qui-Gon did. By the time the next response team arrived, there would be no trace of Xanatos or this operation. Once again, the dark haired murderer would freely escape into the galaxy.

Qui-Gon refused to entertain the idea of allowing Xanatos' threat to continue to exist. The very idea of him training others to follow in his corrupt path caused Qui-Gon's nerves to sizzle. _He_ would deal with this. It was his mistake. And it would be his to fix. No one was going to tell him otherwise.

The escape pod Terlius and his padawan had secured was already prepped and ready to go. A brief scan for any added gifts was done at Qui-Gon's insistence. Once it was clear that Xanatos had not sabotaged the pod, Terlius and Padawan Muln set to work removing the tracking chips. Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes as he stood at the pod entrance. It just seemed as if Xanatos was letting them get away a little too easily. This wasn't his style. He was planning something. Something dramatic. His frown increased as he found he couldn't sense anything. Nevertheless, he was sure it was coming.

"Qui-Gon!" Qui-Gon flew around at the sound of his name and he nearly struck Obi-Wan as the brunette suddenly pulled him close. Qui-Gon's eyes widened, his hand halfway to Obi-Wan's face in a frozen attack. A firm hand gripped the back of his head and Qui-Gon suddenly found the boy's forehead pressed against his own.

"Obi-Wan?"

His words were spoken softly. So softly that Qui-Gon almost didn't hear him over the roar of the ship. "I didn't want it to be this way, but I can not allow it to happen again."

Qui-Gon stiffened. Obi-Wan's eyes held a strange emotion in them and instantly a feeling of dread crept over the tall Jedi.

"Forgive me, Master."

Qui-Gon gasped in surprise as he was roughly pushed backwards, the hatch to the pod sealing behind him with an ominous hiss. Terlius let out an alarmed shout before shooting his hand out to the controls. A small beep followed by a calm voice alerted them that the hatch could not longer be opened as the launch sequence had been activated.

"Padawan!" The command was barely out Terlius mouth before Garen was kneeling beside the panel, his hack pad extended. Qui-Gon stood still by the door, staring out the large hatch port way at the stoic teen that stood on the other side. Obi-Wan was standing so close to the pod door that Qui-Gon felt as if he could reach out and pull him inside. A lump had formed itself in his throat as he realized there was no way to get to the boy.

"Damn!" Garen shouted, kicking the side of the pod. "I don't know what he's done but I can't override the launch sequence!"

"Garen-"

He ignored his Master as he tossed the hack pad down and threw himself against the hatch, pointing at Obi-Wan fiercely. "Get in here, Kenobi!"

Qui-Gon watched in a strange fascination as Obi-Wan's lips moved. There was no sound, but the Jedi Master could easily read his lips. Apparently, so could Garen.

'I can't do that Garen. I have to take care of some things.'

"What is this _lunacy_ you're spitting out? What could you possibly have to take care of?" Garen banged against the hatch violently. "Stop being an idiot and stop the damn sequence!"

'Take care of Bant. She won't understand.'

"Of course Bant's not going to understand! I don't even understand!" Garen's voice took on a desperate tone as the white pod lights switched to the auxiliary launch yellow. "Please!"

Garen's poundings slowed and then stopped all together. Terlius placed a gentle hand on his Padawan's back as Garen bowed his head in defeat, a strangled sob escaping the teenager. Qui-Gon watched as the boy gazed at his friend with a mixture of sympathy and pity.

Perhaps it was seeing Obi-Wan like this and knowing he may never see the boy again. Or maybe it was the presence of the rapidly returning Force, its whispers sweeping the blindness from his eyes. Either way, a moment of clarity took over the Jedi Master. While it would still take time and many hours of meditation to accept what the boy wanted him to believe, Qui-Gon Jinn was suddenly perfectly aware of the role that Obi-Wan Kenobi would play in his life.

He knew that he made mistakes. He also knew that it took him longer then most to realize them. Nevertheless, when he did, he rectified the situation quickly.

* * *

Obi-Wan watched his sobbing friend, regret filling him that he would have to place such pain on someone who had already given his life to protect him. He could feel the Force stirring on the fringes of his consciousness, carrying Garen's pain. This was the way things had to be.

It cut him deeply to know that he would never again stand by Qui-Gon's side, fight by him – for him. However, Obi-Wan could no longer afford to be selfish. He had done it once, and that would be more then enough. It was clear to him that Qui-Gon would not take him as an apprentice and as much as Obi-Wan was ashamed to admit it, that was the only reason why he had not come to this conclusion earlier.

He had still hoped; somewhere in his heart of hearts, to have his Master once more. The act of navigating the future and finding those that needed to be killed looked far less impressive with the thought of his Master by his side.

But, Obi-Wan Kenobi was a Jedi Master himself and a Councilmember to top it off. While his actions, or lack there of, may have helped bring down the Order, Obi-Wan would not allow it to happen again. This was not about him getting a second chance to be with his loved ones. This was about him securing their future. Too long had he acted in fear and hesitation. His steps now would be ones of resolve: cautious yet firm.

Obi-Wan would protect them this time, regardless of what that entailed.

Qui-Gon shifted and caught Obi-Wan's attention instantly. He found his old Master watching him intently, his jaw set. Then his lips were moving. Obi-Wan froze, his breath catching in surprise as his mind easily translated Qui-Gon's words.

'Padawan.'

Then the pod was gone, a glint of silver as it rocketed towards the planet below.


	12. Proof of Life

The holo image was shaking side to side, showing only the jogging feet of the person holding it and the flat titled roof below it. Suddenly it was righted and a young boy, barely a teenager, appeared.

"This Xi. It is, huff, the Third Day of the Setting and there are two robed figures fighting with glowing swords. It's the most amazing I've ever seen. They've been fighting for – Gods how did they jump that? – never mind – at least thirty minutes before I got back with my camera. Shit, they're moving so fast, I can't keep up with them."

The image flickered back down to the ground as Xi sprinted, jumping over the building edge. An alleyway flashed briefly before being replaced with another tiled roof. Suddenly the imaged righted itself again. Two lightsabers, red and blue. The two figures were swirling about each other with a grace that could have been thought choreographed by one uneducated in the ways of the Force.

"Man, oh man! This is amazing!" Xi cursed loudly. "Gods _look at them go_! I hope this camera can pick it up. Shit, shit, shit! I knew I should have brought the XiV, it's better at picking up high speed stuff."

The figures broke apart, skidding across the roof with such force they lifted the roof titles. The black clad figured leapt forward again, letting out a primal scream that made Xi jump and the picture was momentarily lost. Seconds later it was returned, showing the two in close combat. The figure in brown easily avoided the darker opponent's strikes, using his smaller stature to attack close and fast. The dark one let out a snarl as he was caught in a tender spot, catching the brown clad figure with a punch that sent him flying. The brown figure twisted in the end, using the motion of his landing to launch himself at the alien and send them both hurtling onto the next roof top.

"Oh for the love of-" Xi moaned, sprinting suddenly to jump across the alleyway. He barely made it and nearly dropped the camera. The image showed a mixture of the roof and building edge as the boy fought to pull himself onto the roof. For a moment the camera faced skyward then once again was righted and faced the fight.

"That was close. I had better get paid for this."

The figures were fighting so quickly now the camera could hardly registered the flash of the lightsabers. It was awe inspiring. And it seemed that Xi could not keep from saying so. And finally calling attention to himself. Without warning, a grenade seemed to appear hurtling out of nowhere and landing at the teenagers feet. The camera once again stared off at nothing.

"What the - is that a grenade?"

There was a startled shriek and the camera registered a brown streak before it impacted Xi. Moments later there was an explosion of light and sound. The camera's image shot in all directions before it fixed itself, showing at first nothing but encompassing white, then the ground rapidly approaching and finally settling on the growing distant roof behind it. Seconds later he was on the ground, sheltered from the impact by the same body that had flung him off the roof. The camera caught all of this of course, including Xi's stunned and confused face.

"Are you alright?"

"I think so. I mean, I think I broke my thumb-"

"Good." Then the brown figure was sprinting away, disappearing from view as the sounds of sirens erupted in the distance.

And in a brief, three second shot, Fuan Yi Xi caught the only proof of life of Obi-Wan Kenobi, missing Jedi apprentice.


	13. Bounty

Fuan Yi Xi groaned as he trudged through the snow that covered the ground. It was short sleeves weather only yesterday, and now it was so cold his breath was freezing on his muffler. Oh well. That was the Days of Setting for you. The snow had fallen so thickly that hardly anything was recognizable to him. But it wasn't an issue for Xi. He was good with directions. You had to be in his line of work. He sighed, shouldering his pack. Of course, he was taking a long route to get where he needed to go. But that couldn't be helped

_Can't let them find him._

It was the least he could do for his savior. Xi sighed as he made to leap over a frozen creek bed. Well, that's what Hèsè was, regardless of what the news channels were saying about it. Hèsè. Not the most original name, but he did wear an awful lot of brown. After another half hour of walking, Xi finally found himself at the cave. He sighed and squeezed between the tall rocks that guarded the entryway. They were probably why Hèsè had chosen this place. They quite effectively kept out the cold.

He entered cautiously, recalling their first meeting here.

_Xi gaped at the blood stains that lined each side of the rock. It was that blood that had lead him here; small, globs of a deep red that had formed a path for Xi to follow. But to see the copious amounts smeared on the rocks made his stomach churn._

_To think, his savior had had the blood squeezed right out of him as he slipped between the mammoth stones._

_It left him with the taste of bile strongly in his the back of his throat, but Xi refused to throw up. It was not the time of year to be throwing up. He made his way between the rocks, gritting his teeth as the blood scraped off them and onto his jacket._

Gross.

 _He blinked at the dim cave light. There, towards the back corner, laid his savior. Xi swallowed as he approached, eyes widening when he saw that his savior was unmoving, eyes staring blankly in front of him as he laid on his side. Blood was_ everywhere. _Seeping through the shredded remains of his cloak, down his side, onto the cave floor._

_His saviors back had been completely destroyed by shrapnel. But, but! Xi was confused. He was no expert in warfare, but he could have sworn that the grenade used in the fight had been laser based, not shrapnel. Unless, Xi shuddered, it was some unholy combination of both? What kind of material wouldn't disintegrate in a laser blast? He moved forward, his hands starting to shake as the seemingly lifeless eyes stared up at him._

Was his savior dead because of him?

_Xi reached out a hand and touched a pale check. To his surprise it was blazing hot. Xi let out a scream his six year old cousin would have been downright proud of as his saviors hand shot out, gripping his wrist with so much pressure he felt it crack. Roughly he was shoved backwards and Xi stared as his savior swayed in a crouched position, staring at Xi in much the same way a cornered animal does._

" _Wait! Wait! It's me? Xi! Remember me? You saved my life on the roof? I broke my thumb?" He waved the swollen appendage in his savior's direction, only to freeze when the movement made said savior tense threateningly._

_For a few tense moments they sat like that – well, Xi cowered in fear on the floor – and then a look of reorganization flashed across his savior's face._

" _You."_

" _Yes!" Xi said excitedly. "Me!"_

_His savior let out a groan and collapsed back into seeming unconsciousness, leaving Xi to feel somehow slightly insulted._

Not that that was likely to happen now. Xi sighed as he stared at his still savior. Hèsè hadn't woken up once in the week following Xi's discovery of his camp. If it could be called that. The cave was barren except for a shoty little bed and a space heater that needed a new battery.

Xi had taken care of that though. He was quite generous with his unconscious savior. He took a quarter of the money he'd earned from selling the data disk to the news agency and ramped up the quality of the cave. Fixed the space heater up with a new battery, bought a second one. Got stores of food that his savior would need to survive the Setting and most of all – health supplies to take care of his destroyed back. It was the least he could do.

The rest of the profits Xi blew in three days, mainly paying back some outstanding loans and them promptly making a few more at the local betting house. Broke once again and kicked out his aunt's house for stealing some cash, Xi had decided he better retire to the newly decked out cave. For the health of his savior of course.

"Good even'n Hèsè." He shook the snow from his jacket. "Colder then a Mitchwa's tit out there, my dear savior."

Hèsè never responded to him. Hardly ever moved. He just slept. Xi thought he'd be dead by now. But instead of wasting away from malnourishment, his savior seemed to somehow be improving. He didn't eat, but it wasn't like he didn't drink. As long as the food was liquid form, Hèsè would take it down.

But never once had he woken up.

And the weird part was that Hèsè never used the restroom. Never wet his pants, even though all he did was drink. That was one magic trick Xi wouldn't mind knowing. Having to step out to pee was a painful thing in this cold. It was quite a trick to get it done quick enough to freeze off anything to important. Xi sighed loudly as he took his normal spot by the heater, activating a comic disc he was halfway through. These were the prices one had to pay when watching over their state wanted savior.

Sometimes Xi's kind nature really was just too much for him.

* * *

Obi-Wan dreamed of strange things. Colors and people that either did not exist yet or would soon die crowded his mind along with the mammals that had fascinated him as a child.

He'd just seen Anakin ride by on a Marimonth a moment ago.

Some part of his mind, the one that had been a field operative for thirty-seven years, was aware of his true surroundings. That boy, what was his name? The annoying one, Xi, was chatting idly to him like Obi-Wan was actually capable of pulling himself from his healing trance and speak back to him.

Of course he couldn't.

He could barely function as it was. The healing trance he was in was deep, which was why Obi-Wan was surprised he coherent enough to question his dreams, much less have them at all.

Everything was heavy. He wanted to open his eyes quite badly, but it was to no avail. His entire body felt sluggish, his eyelids weights he couldn't keep open. His body felt like lead, his chest a weight he had to lift to get every breath. Already, the sweet silence of the Force was lulling him away, whispering promises of a deep sleep and health when he awoke. Pushing and pulling him from the seemingly temporary consciousness he'd found.

Oddly enough, it was here, on the verge of sleep, that Obi-Wan felt a familiar, abet faint, call.

' _Where? Where? Where?'_

It was not uncommon for such a scattered message come through the bond. Though deep and solid on Obi-Wan's side, it was still new and weak on that of his Master's. Qui-Gon had yet to master full words. It was a thankful thing though. Things would become complicated if the older Jedi simply realized that all he had to do was reach out and demand it, and he could learn Obi-Wan's location.

But it would be a while before Qui-Gon had enough confidence in the bond to realize how sizeable it truly was.

He groaned and instantly the noises from the boy stopped. Obi-Wan could almost cry at the silence that followed. The need for sleep was making his mind mush. Already he was finding it impossible to form coherent thoughts. And Anakin was riding once again on the Marimonth, waving at him cheerfully in his sixteen year old form. Obi-Wan was to tired to even be amused by the sight. The cave was forgotten, his mission was forgotten. He even turned a blind eye to his hallucinations. The only thing that was, was to sleep.

And he desperately wanted to. But Qui-Gon wouldn't let him. The call was persistent. Like an alarm clock that he could not figure out how to turn off.

' _Where? Where? Where?'_

' _Where? Where? Where?'_

' _Where? Where? Where?'_

Mentally he tried to stop the message, but it would not be silenced. Irritation filled his short and heavy thoughts and Obi-Wan caught the next wave of thought and sent it back. Almost instantly the call was silenced.

Content, he slipped unhindered into the Force once more.

* * *

_He's alive._

Qui-Gon gripped the piloting controls with a death grip, trying to quell his shock. Two years - almost three years now, but he was alive!

' _Tired.'_

His mind replayed the word, trying to recapture the presence that had come with it. As short as the answer was, Qui-Gon's heart was jumping in his chest. Obi-Wan was alive. He had known that of course, Xanatos' dead body had assured him of that. Though the fact that the boy could take down his former apprentice only added to the list of mysteries surrounding the missing Jedi. But this was different. It was more solid. He forced himself to peel his hand from the control jockey and closed his eyes, wiping his hands on his pants.

_Now all I have to do is find him._

The universe was a big place, but still Qui-Gon couldn't believe that not one solid hint of the boy had come up. Still, he refused to end his search. Even it meant taking on the whole Jedi Council.

" _This is all you have to report Master Jinn?" Qui-Gon stared defensively into the faces of the Council._

" _Qui-Gon," Mace said with a sigh as he leaned in, "It's almost been three years. Perhaps-"_

" _I am not going to stop looking for my Padawan." He turned sharply on the heel of his boot. "If this is all you have to say I'm leaving."_

" _I was just going to suggest you take a break – perhaps a few months-"_

" _And what will that accomplish?" Qui-Gon asked sharply, looking over his shoulder at his dark skinned friend. The rest of the Council stayed quiet. This was not the first nor most likely the last time this fight was to take place. Where they stood on the issue varied. But mostly they kept quiet. They could recognize a far more personal battle taking place. A part of Qui-Gon knew this and was slightly embarrassed with the realization. However, at this point and time he didn't care._

_The smallest Councilmember sighed, thumping his gimmer stick on the tile. Instantly the argument between Mace and himself died._

" _For your wayward apprentice, continue to search you may. Of young Obi-Wan the Force whispers many things to me. Not sure what it says am I, until he is brought to us."_

_Qui-Gon stared at the small Master gratefully. He had been the only one who he had told Obi-Wan's tale to. Qui-Gon still didn't know how much he was willing to believe it. Yet there was something off about Obi-Wan Kenobi. Something that needed far more time and attention before he was willing to dismiss or endorse it._

" _Go now." Qui-Gon caught the data disc flying in his direction in surprise. "A new lead from Master Terlius, we have gotten."_

 _The maverick Jedi glared at Mace, but the Councilmember glared back at him defiantly. Mace would have Qui-Gon in the Temple with his hands tied when he had_ known _there was a new lead._

_Qui-Gon felt like a hand had gripped his heart with a vice._

_Such was friendship._

It was more then just a lead. It was the long-in-coming proof that Qui-Gon Jinn had been searching for. Finding Obi-Wan had become an obsession. During the day he searched leads, during the night he dreamed.

It was hard for him to tell if they were premonitions or not. They were small, disorganized things. It was ironic, in a sense. That the very same bond that he had first shunned so vehemently he now nurtured. The bond worked sporadically, sending him random bursts of emotions. All of which, Qui-Gon had known instinctively, had been released from Obi-Wan by mistake. Most likely he didn't even realize he was broadcasting.

But more then any other, there were moments that caught him totally unprepared. Moments that would still his heart, catch his breath and steal his warmth. Moments when Qui-Gon Jinn knew without question that Obi-Wan Kenobi was in danger.

It was something Qui-Gon couldn't quite understand. Why face such perils alone? Why didn't Obi-Wan want to be found?

And Qui-Gon was more then irritated at how well he could apparently hide. He'd come close a few times, yet it always seemed as if he was a step behind. And until the video from a fourteen year old Geaugan named Fuan Yi Xi, there had been no physical proof of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Now everything had changed.

Qui-Gon knew that was his Padawan on that disc. He knew it like he knew his own name. He had known it before he had frozen the vid on the blurry face of his apprentice. And regardless of how very anti-Jedi Geaugan population seemed to be, he was going to retrieve Obi-Wan, make sure he was healthy, then lock him a room and not let him out to each and every one of Qui-Gon's questions were answered.

Of course, first he had to get past the arm guards staring him down. Qui-Gon shook his thoughts off as he walked down the ramp, eyeing the blasters aimed at his chest in distaste.

"State your purpose Jedi." The last word was spit like a curse. Qui-Gon sighed. He was really not in the mood to deal with this.

"I was requested. Let me pass."

"He was requested. Let him pass." The captain said, blinking slightly and looking at his blaster like it had suddenly grown out of his hand. He lowered it, as did his men.

If the Council learned about that little force manipulation they'd have a fit. They already told him to be on his best behavior here, and to avoid using Force tricks unless he absolutely had to. _Don't make things any worse they already are._ That's what Mace had said to him.

Qui-Gon snorted as he walked unchallenged from the hanger bay. He was tired of appeasing Mace. He stopped in a small port store, purchasing the climate gear that would keep him alive. They were pricey, as the world had only just entered it's winter time period, but it was necessary. Temperatures here could kill an unclothed human in less then four minutes. The rotation of the planet was extreme, and as such it caused extreme weather changes. While usually close enough to the system's sun to remain a tropic temperature, for four months of the year their orbit took itself on a wide spike backwards, rotating around a larger, dead planet. The result was the large, blue planet that hung low in the dark sky and in direct contrast, the bright red sun that remained constantly set on the horizon. It cast the entire planet in an pale, pink-blue light.

The event was a rare one, not found duplicated in any other system. Geauga would have been a popular tourist destination if it was not for their rather hostile view of off-worlders. He strolled out into the city and froze, his eyes widening as he stared up at the jumbo news screen mounted on the corner. The image it displayed was split in two; one with Obi-Wan's face, blown and cleaned up, and the other was of a news crew.

The reporters were muted, but Qui-Gon didn't need to hear them to see content. In large, unforgiving text along the bottom was a bounty for his Padawan's head.

**Dangerous mass murder on the loose! Killed up to seven people! If seen contact DF immediately! Watch tonight at seventh hour for alerts! Bounty has reached 70,000,000 Gg!**

Qui-Gon's mouth had gone rather dry. Perhaps getting Obi-Wan off the planet was going to be a bit more complicated then he originally thought.

* * *

_Two and Half Years Earlier_

The spaceship's medical bay was completely white and silver. Not that Boden would have noticed. All he saw was green. Panic was screaming across his mind. Where was he? Where was his brother?

He pounded against the tube's sides, screaming in his mask until he feared it would fly off with his force of will and he'd drown. A figure came into view, striding calmly towards his floating body.

An old man, silver white hair that was still dappled with the black of his youth. He dress was immaculate; his walk authoritative and even through the tube of green, Boden could feel the man's presence. But Boden didn't care. He wanted his brother. He wanted out, and he wanted it now. He pounded harder, kicking at the tube with all his force.

"Stop that." The man said sharply. And to Boden's surprise, he did. It was as if his body simply would not listen to his commands to be impudent. But no, no Force trick had been used. It was this man's presence alone to which he had reacted. Boden could hear his brother's voice in his mind, warning him to heed his surroundings before acting out. And so he did.

"Now. That's better. I will not tolerate such unbecoming behavior from my padawan leaner."

Boden gaped at him underneath his mask.

_Who the hell does he think he is? How dare he, I am-_

"Now, undoubtedly you are confused. So I shall make a few concessions to your curiosity - this once. Listen carefully to what I have to say, Boden du Crion, for I do not repeat myself nor do I suffer fools lightly. Do you understand what I am saying boy?"

In the green water, Boden nodded, gritting his teeth in an attempt to quell his anger.

"Your Master has been killed, laid to waste by a pubescent boy. Not that I expected much else from such a stupidly narrow minded man. Make no mistake, Boden, you survival wasn't by accident."

The man's fingers sped across the control keyboards and with little warning the green fluid rushed from the tank and Boden was spilled out of it to rest in an ungraceful pile before him. Naked, and covered in thin layer of green slime, Boden felt shamed as he cowered before such a well kept man. The man stared down at him with cold, disdainful eyes.

"Because you are the padawan of my Padawan's padawan, I shall teach you with the assumptions that there must be some core to build off of. I will be frank with you. I put no stock in Xanatos' teachings. And so we shall start from the beginning."

And with that the man swiveled smartly on one boot heel and strolled towards the lift door. Boden glared after him with more hatred then he had ever felt before. "Who are you?"

The man stopped at the doorway, not bothering to look behind him as he calmly waited for the lift to arrive.

"I am Count Dooku. But you will call me Master. And you, you shall obey me without question or interruption. And should you prove to be of some merit at all, you will be allowed to live."

He stepped into the lift, turning around to give him one last size up.

"And put some clothes on, you look ridiculous."

With a hiss the lift doors shut.


	14. A Far Cry

Garen stood mutely in the small, rectangular tree hut that one of his dearest friends had apparently spent the majority of the last few years. It was stripped of anything that could be useful to information seekers like himself, but Garen could recognize the remains of his friend's Force signature anywhere.

It was clear that the hut hadn't been in habited for a while, yet Obi-Wan's presence was everywhere in the small room. There was a lump in his throat that weighed heavily as he breathed and Garen ran his hands over the sleeping mat made of woven reeds stuffed with leaves. He could almost imagine his friend laying himself down on the frugal bed, night after night. Settling onto his side – the only way he'd ever seen Obi-Wan sleep – before drifting off. At seventeen, Garen stood several feet taller then he had the last time he'd met his friend and he couldn't help but wonder what it was Obi-Wan looked like now. Did his feet hang over this improvised bed, the way Garen's so often did?

Whenever they got a hit on Obi-Wan's presence, his hopes were raised and then dashed – inevitably by the time they got there the trail was cold. If it wasn't for the success of the missions that Council gave them to complete in between information hits – Garen would have begun to question their skill in earnest.

That the desolate, jungle planet of Geomund IV would be his wayward friend's hiding place made a bitter taste come to Garen's mouth. It was more then just that they had skipped over the planet several times, sure that the signs were pointing to other worlds. It was that Obi-Wan had chosen such a lonely, lonely place. The hut was small, filled with abandoned knickknacks that hinted at what Obi-Wan was doing here. By his side, his Master stood from his kneeling position with a sigh before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Well, looks like the video lead is our most current hope." Iian Terlius had largely remained unchanged through out the years, though there were a few lines here and there that hadn't once been. Garen loved his Master dearly, never once had Iian questioned their quest for Obi-Wan, even as Bant and the others began to give up hope. Even when people told his Master he was mad to keep looking for one renegade Padawan.

Garen knew that it was more then just that his Master hadn't ever lost a mark before, though that played a large part of it. Iian's confidence in their ability to find Obi-Wan was sometimes the only thing that kept him going.

"What was he doing here?" Garen wondered grimly, staring out of the small window, a torn hole really, in the fabric tent. His Master sent him a brilliant smile before patting him on the shoulder.

"Training."

Confusion was something he was more then used to dealing with over the past few years and Garen simply sighed as he felt it wash across him again.

"For what?"

Iian placed his hands on his hips and stared around the dim little hut. "I have no idea."

* * *

The ceiling of the cave was painted in an eerie respite with the soft light from the lanterns. Obi-Wan stifled a groan and allowed his eyes to drift shut again. With some effort he brought his hand up to rest against his eyes, blocking out the light from his pounding migraine. In the background the boy, Xi, was talking endlessly to himself, but he blocked the sound out and allowed himself to drift back to the events of the last three years.

The battle with Xanatos had been a difficult one. It was only Obi-Wan's age and experience that allowed him to defeat the excellent swordsman, and once the Force had fled his body along with the adrenalin, Obi-Wan was left in hobbling in pain. Muscles his young body had obviously never used before ached something terrible, and showed him just how far behind he actually was. It had taken just shy of a full year of training on Geomund IV to get his body back into the shape it needed to be. Another year of non-stop hunting and battles to to build up enough confidence in Obi-Wan's reconfigured body to even begin planning how to take down the big players. It had taken another six months for him to pick up on the trail of the blonde Sith woman and her apprentice. Another month to plan the perfect encounter, two days of waiting for the ideal moment.

And in the end, the battle with her apprentice had nearly killed him.

 _Still,_ he thought as let out a soft sigh, _I couldn't let that boy die._

Obi-Wan shook his head at the frustration he felt. Months of preparation and stalking down the drain. Who knew now where the woman and her ghoulish apprentice had fled to? They could be anywhere. The tired Jedi sighed and opened his eyes, gathering the Force around him, evaluating the various bruises and tares before releasing it with a sigh of disappointment. He had not healed competently yet, though he was out of death's path at least. Obi-Wan moved slowly into a sitting position, gritting his teeth slightly as body protested his efforts.

"You're awake." The boy, Xi, said slowly, his tone laced with disbelief. "Well, that's a relief."

A second later and Obi-Wan had a bowl of steaming soup in his hand and Xi was pulling the bandages on his back off with an amazing lack of gentleness that left Obi-Wan hissing. The Geaugan cleaned the wound with an equal amount of deftness and had reapplied the suave and bandages before Obi-Wan could open his mouth to speak. The boy moved like a nat – fluttering around the cave with such hyperness that it made his already pounding migraine double.

For a moment silence filled the cave as he ate, something remarkable given how much the teenager enjoyed narrating his life. Xi watched him eat his soup, chewing on his bottom lip in an almost mechanical way, staring at the Jedi with an intenseness that Obi-Wan already knew was unlike him.

After a few minutes of being so closely analyzed Obi-Wan sighed, resting his spoon in the soup before looking at the Geaugan. Xi squirmed slightly under his stare.

"Well," The Jedi said after a moment, "Go ahead and ask."

Xi played with his boot laces nervously, before asking his question directly to the ground. "Did you really kill all those kids?"

* * *

The waiting room of the Geaugan Government Sanctioned News Broadcaster was a study in masculinity. Dark wood panels with gaudy, red velvet drapes covering tinted windows that showed amazingly scenic views of the Setting. Qui-Gon set in one of the leather backed chairs, listening to some random smooth jazz song that never seemed to have end.

The Jedi Master's stare was fixed on the sweating receptionist. She was attractive and young, with a desk high enough to show off a pair of lengthy and well kept legs. She was gorgeous and quite a bit of work had been done to ensure so. But the looks of attempt seduction she was sending him had no effect.

Perhaps it was because of the fact that the looks were clearly shaken, lacking most of their force due to the fact that Qui-Gon hadn't taken his eyes from her form since he had entered. Most likely it was because the Jedi was stewing in his seat. It had taken him over two hours of paperwork, lies and eventually a mind trick to get him a permit that would allow him to walk the city streets without being accosted. It had had taken him even longer to arrive at the news station. He was stopped every few minutes to demands to see his registration papers.

And now, after a total of four hours, Qui-Gon was still being stonewalled by backwater, outer rim hicks. He had originally planned on getting the security vids he wanted through official routes, but Qui-Gon felt he was rapidly running out of time. Obi-Wan could flee the planet any moment, he would expect no less out of the boy who had kept one of the best trackers befuddled for so long.

He was unwilling to lose him again. Besides, the vid had shown blood. His wayward Padawan was somewhere on this frozen rock, hurt. Qui-Gon shook his head and stood. He glanced at the security camera momentarily before deciding to ignore it completely. So the Geaugans would have a recording of him use a Jedi mind trick. Somehow Qui-Gon doubted it would be the first or the last time he broke the rules on this planet.

A gentle push sent him on his way through the decorative stone doors and into and lift. Moments later he was slowly progressing his way to the top floors. To the archives where the answer to this whole mess would be found.

Yet as much as Qui-Gon wanted answers, he found himself hesitant to find them. He had barely been on the planet for a few minutes before they had shown the vids of Obi-Wan. Not only of his fight, which they had labeled a fight between to Jedi insurgents – why, Qui-Gon thought dryly, would two Jedi insurgents be fighting each other? – but also of something much sinister. Something that had not been released to the Temple.

And Qui-Gon would be forever grateful for that. For had it, the nature of his mission here would be completely different. If he had even been allowed to go.

It was a short security vid, slowed down by the news agency as they gave a play by play of the situation, which showed a reality that he was hard pressed to accept. So he had stood, still as stone as the icy winds whipped his face dry and chapped, as they showed the bloody footage over and over again. Watching as a jerky, slowed down Obi-Wan cut through two teenager girl's with his lightsaber. They had cut the image there, only to show the cut up corpses of five girls – all between the ages of fourteen and eighteen – littered across the State Academy for Girl's courtyard.

But Qui-Gon couldn't believe that Obi-Wan had killed those girls unprompted. He could hardly believe that act was done at all. It was to short a vid for him to establish anything beyond the fact that Obi-Wan killed those two girls.

He needed to see the unedited vid. To see what happened moments before Obi-Wan had killed and the moments after. And then, then when Qui-Gon had seen it to its completion, he would decide what he would do.

The lift doors slid open and Qui-Gon exited from the elevator, extending his will as he did so. It enveloped the room like a blanket and the few employees present became overwhelming interested in their work. Still, he could not keep so many minds distracted for long. He needed to move quickly. Qui-Gon stopped at the nearest computer unit and slid into the uncomforted un-backed chair. A quick question to the archive manager rendered him the proper passwords and identification and in moments he had found the file he was looking for.

True to his nature, he didn't hesitate to load it. Despite the grim nature of the video, Qui-Gon felt his breath catch only once – the first time Obi-Wan's image appeared on screen. The security cam had focused on the back of his form before switching to one directly in front of the boy.

Obi-Wan still dressed like a Jedi, though Qui-Gon already knew this. They had tracked down a tailor who had made the Jedi garbs for a now much taller and lanker teenager. He thin, malnourished almost with slightly gaunt cheeks. He looked exhausted and even with the odd angle of the camera Qui-Gon could see the dark circles under his eyes. His hair was still the same short, spiky cut he remembered. The absence of the padawan braid seemed glaringly obvious to him and it would be one of the first things Qui-Gon righted when he finally met up with the boy. But he was alive and overall healthy. Obi-Wan stood tall and imposing and though he looked every bit of a lanky sixteen year old, it was clear that the past three years had aged the boy far more.

Not a boy, Qui-Gon realized with a jolt, a man. His Padawan had become a man. Anguish erupted inside him. Obi-Wan had entered adulthood before Qui-Gon had even had a chance to be a part of his youth. How could he have allowed this to happen? For Obi-Wan to have reached this point alone, without guidance? Why, why had he resisted what the Force had been screaming at him? Why had he ever resisted the bond?

He had little time to drift back into the same accusations his mind had been throwing at him for the past three years before movement on the screen forced him back to the present.

Obi-Wan walked across the enclosed court yard with the confidence of some one who walked it daily, but the Jedi in Qui-Gon could see the unease of each step. And then, in a split second Obi-Wan tensed and twirled, his lightsaber a blur of blue light as he swung. The two, short dark clad figures that had dropped down on him from above, red lightsabers angled for a kill, collapsed against the ground seconds later.

The cloaks and lightsabers had been edited out of the vid shown to the public and Qui-Gon doubted highly that that was the last change. The vid had ended here, with Obi-Wan standing over the dead children, hood down and blue lightsaber casting his face in an ethereal light.

This vid showed the slow spread of surprise as the boy knelt down before the severed girls. A hand rose to cover his mouth as the emotion shifted to horror before disappearing completely behind the same neutral façade that had haunted Qui-Gon 's memories for so long. There was a shout of rage from off screen and Obi-Wan was on his feet again, easily pushing off another pair of attackers.

The dark clad teenagers stood staring Obi-Wan down from across the courtyard as an older, taller girl stood behind them. Qui-Gon's fingers moved quickly to enable the audio as the eldest spoke. He missed her first words in their entirety, but he was unwilling to rewind it as Obi-Wan spoke.

" _Why are you doing this?"_

" _Shouldn't you know?"_ The eldest spat. _"You were cast off, just like the rest of us."_

" _That didn't make me abandon the Light in its entirety! What of your training? What of your ideals?"_ The words were harsh and Qui-Gon saw the younger girl flinch, guilt spreading across her youthful face.

" _Our ideals abandoned us. Don't be so righteous."_ The eldest ignited her lightsaber, the effect of a trio of red sabers throwing the courtyard into a scarlet hue.

" _Put that away."_ Obi-Wan moved into a relaxed position before them, his lightsaber ignited but pointed down at his side. _"If you fight me, I will kill you. I do not wish to kill my own. Come back with me, come back to the Temple. They must miss you."_

" _Why would they care?"_ The little ones asked bitterly, _"They cast us out. Did they come looking for us when I disappeared? Did anyone care?"_

Obi-Wan's voice was incredulous when he spoke next. _"They may not have found you, but that does not mean they did not look. Do you think that they didn't mourn your loss when you vanished?"_ Obi-Wan took a step forward, _"There is more to the Order then Knighthood. Our family is small, but it is our own. Do you think they would turn their backs on you if you called?"_

Our family is small, but it is our own. It was a mantra they were taught as children, to enforce the bond of the Order. Its reaction on the younger girls was immediate.

" _I-"_ The girls exchanged a confused look.

" _Why are you listening to his nonsense? They didn't want us. The Mistress does. Are you stupid?"_ The eldest shook her head, pointing a gloved finger at Obi-Wan. _"We must kill him!"_

Obi-Wan shook his head. _"There is enough blood on my hands as it is; I will not add your foolishness as well. I will return you by force if I must."_

" _We will never go back to that place."_ The eldest screamed, launching herself at Obi-Wan. After a moment of hesitation the other girls charged in as well. They never stood a chance against him, and after a few minutes, the eldest girl realized it as well. Qui-Gon watched the realization spread across her face and then twist into something else. In a split second she had turned her attack and struck down the girls at her side. A flick of the wrist and she had impaled herself on her own blade, ripping it from her chest as if she did not feel the pain and in a last ditch effort of defiance, tossed it fiercely forward.

Obi-Wan caught the lightsaber easily and deactivated it, his hand slowly lowering to his side. The girl collapsed to her knees among the butchered bodies, staring at her opponent with a cruel, spiteful sneer.

" _You think I would ever let you take them back?"_ And then she slumped over and with a low keen, died. Obi-Wan stood without moving, staring at the dismembered bodies before him, his face unreadable. Five minutes passed, then ten and Obi-Wan still did not move. Then slowly he knelt before them.

" _Pointless. Completely pointless."_ His voice was level, but the slight shake of his hands as he reached out and collected the remaining two lightsabers betrayed his emotions. The recording ended with a beep, the window shutting itself automatically.

Qui-Gon stared at the screen for a moment before slipping a copy disc into the drive.

* * *

Xi stormed his way down the city streets, trying to keep his face from showing his horror and frustration.

" _Yes."_

How that one word had sent his entire world spinning. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but Xi hadn't been expecting that. His savior had slaughtered those kids? They news casters were right? It hadn't been a lie from the government at all?

Xi just couldn't believe it. He just couldn't. He had thought, for sure he had thought, that there was no way his Hèsè - no, Obi-Wan, as Xi had learned, was the same guy in that security vid. That he could have done _that._

Yet he had. Xi shoved his hands in his pockets roughly, recalling the offworlder's face as Xi had questioned him. He could still feel those calm, blue-gray eyes staring through him.

" _You…what?" The silence in the small cave was thick with tension. Xi's lips pressed themselves into a thin line, then; "Are you an assassin or something?_

_Obi-Wan had sighed and then stared down into his soup. "Or something."_

_He laid the half eaten bowl of soup gently to the floor next to his sleep pallet. His hands laid on his covered legs before turning to look at Xi again. When he spoke, his voice was soft and laden with regret._

" _I didn't want to. I offered them a chance to turn themselves in, to leave the path they had chosen to walk. They refused."_

 _Xi chewed on the inside of his cheek, his mind replaying the security vid they had been broadcasting nonstop on the news channels. If he really was…one of_ them, _couldn't he have found a way to not kill them? Why had he killed them? Xi had never believed the rumors about the Jedi, in fact when he had realized his savior was one of them he had begun to believe they were the keepers of peace, but now he was just confused._

_Were the Jedi has untrustworthy as his government said they were?_

" _I don't understand. Couldn't you have taken them prisoner or something?" Xi asked edgily, still fiddling with his boots._

" _They wouldn't have let me." Obi-Wan had answered simply. The offworlder had sighed before bringing a hand up to rub his chest. "I doubt you will understand this, Xi, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made. For the good of the whole."_

" _Sure." The Geaugan said in a tone that clearly stated he didn't understand a damn thing. He had stood, unable to look at his savior. "Look, I'm gonna go into the city for some supplies."_

And now he was walking the city streets, freezing his ass off because he didn't have any money to buy himself into a bar. He was confused, why would Obi-Wan save him? Especially after he had killed those private academy kids? The only way it made any sense was if he was some sort of assassin. A Jedi assassin, did those even exist?

" _Sometimes sacrifices have to be made."_

What the hell had that meant? Xi let out a growl of frustration and kicked out violently at a block of ice that the road breakers had piled on the side of the sidewalks. He watched its progression – he could hit it far. Sending the mammoth, craggy piles of ice vaulting through the air was a childhood game on Geauga and it was how Xi had earned his very first betting money.

Xi's eyes widened as he watched the ice block sail majestically down the side walk – and smack directly into the chest of a startled, giant of a man. He knew instantly, in the way that all Geaugans knew, that this man was an offworlder. The man looked from where the ice block had fallen at his feet and then over at him.

Xi felt himself panic slightly at the glare that was sent his way, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the intensity he found there. He watched, mutely, as the man's eyebrows rose in a silent rebuke. Xi swallowed; somehow he hadn't felt so properly cowed since his mother was alive.

He opened his mouth to apologize but froze as the corner of the offworlder's lips quirked in a rather intimidating fashion.

"Fuan Yi Xi." Xi couldn't help but notice it wasn't a question and felt his mouth go quite suddenly dry. "I've been looking for you."

* * *

Obi-Wan banished the faces of the girls from his mind as he forced himself to stretch his back muscles. He placed them with the faces of others he refused to think of, other moments he refused to ever revisit. But he could not still the sorrow in his heart.

_It seems I am incapable of saving even children from the dark._

While only two children had died by his blade, his presence had amounted to a death sentence for all. Obi-Wan wished he had never investigated the Academy, that he had just ignored the clues pointing there. He had thought he would encounter the Sith woman and her apprentice, what had happened had been a far cry from his plans. He had thought when he had been attacked that it was that foul beast. But it had only been children, girls no older then fourteen. How could he have known? The act was done before he had even realized their identity.

Undoubtedly the five had been reported lost or dead to the Temple and Obi-Wan had no doubt they had been searched for, perhaps even were still being searched for. They were initiates who had been kidnapped and sold or left their assignments of their own free will, to join the blond haired Sith.

_How many disappeared like those girls?_

Obi-Wan shook his head. For so many, the assignments to areas outside of padawan-hood once they had reached their thirteenth birthday was the right choice. So many developed into healthy, happy adults who functioned well in the Order, fulfilling roles that were vital to its survival. But how many had been passed over by mistake? Obi-Wan himself had almost ended up a agriculture worker.

_How many of our children broke themselves in their grief?_

He would have to let the Temple know of their deaths somehow. He would have to find a copy of the security vid and send it to them. He had no other way to identify them. They had all been too young to have been in any of his classes as a child. And as far as he knew, they did not exist in his time. Obi-Wan stared at his clenched hands bitterly. He had never faced them in the time that he knew. Where they dead already? Chances were they had fallen to Sidious or some other force long before the war had even begun. He had uncovered nothing to show they were working together and he doubted highly that the Chancellor took kindly to competition. No chance for life, in one future or the other.

Obi-Wan did not know if he could bring himself to kill children.

Yet they were children who had taken up the mantel of the Sith. Children who had fought him with hate and anger. Children who saw this as their last chance to become something great, to become what they had been trained to from birth. Children who were forever lost to the light. Children who refused his offers of a safe return to the Temple. It was a tragedy, one that he had not foreseen and could not have prevented.

If this was to ever happen again, could he really take the chance of returning them to the Temple? Could one who had started down the path of the Dark side ever be redeemed? Could he bring himself to believe that Anakin could not ever be saved? If this happened again, could he risk trying to save them? Should he kill them, eliminate any possible threat to his loved ones that he encountered? Up to this point all that he had faced had been clean cut. Siths, true by true, waiting to weave their craft and bring about the destruction of lives.

Obi-Wan hoped he would never be forced to make that decision.

He brought his hand up to rub the burning sensation that was so familiar. He stared grimly at his covered legs before crossing them and leaning his elbows on his knees, bringing his free hand up to cover his eyes. Obi-Wan was tired, even now after he had slept for so long.

The startled, pale face of Xi haunted him slightly. Obi-Wan had watched him silently as the Geaugan boy had fought to keep his revulsion hidden. The boy had seen him as his rescuer, had cared for him when he was at his weakest. He had seen the Jedi heal in a manner that to him must be miraculous. Xi had built him into something he was not – a mythical hero of some kind that Xi could privately enjoy. Faced with the bloody truth of Obi-Wan's actions – and without a proper understanding on why it must be done – he had quite effectively crushed the Geaugan's dream of him.

It's always hard for a child when he realizes his idols are not what they believe they are. And so he was silent when Xi had left without the normal cheerful backwards glance. Even if he wanted to, how could he even begin to explain this to a teenage boy? If at all possible, Obi-Wan never wanted Xi to understand.

He himself didn't know if what he was doing the right thing at times. He didn't even know if he would be able to accomplish everything he wanted to. But Obi-Wan would die trying to fix his mistakes and the mistakes of his Padawan. And he would kill any and all who had nurtured the plot that had destroyed the Order. Sidious would fall, as would Maul and Dooku and the damnable blond woman. They would fall or he would die.

The Temple would never burn again as long as he breathed. Obi-Wan would protect his family. There was no other option. So far, the only break he had gotten was the realization that Terlius was still on the planet. Xi had informed him that she actually held a government seat and had an office in town no less.

How Xi had known this and Obi-Wan hadn't after all of his reconnaissance work, was beyond him. He sighed, at least –

He froze, his entire body going stiff. His back screamed as he stretched his weak scabs wide. Obi-Wan pulled himself from his sleeping pallet with much effort, calling his lightsaber to his hand. A Force wielder was coming his way, trying to mute his presence. He could still sense it, though it was mutilated to the point that he couldn't tell its affliction.

Grimly he moved to face the entrance to the cave, grateful that Xi had left. He didn't know if he had the strength to protect the boy from attacks right now. He kept his lightsaber in his hand, ready to flick it on in an instant if he needed to. He was in rough shape, if this was the woman or her apprentice, it would be an interesting fight.

He could barely hear the soft crunch of snow over the wind as the presence drew nearer. Obi-Wan lips twisted into a frown. That presence...he lowered his lightsaber but kept it in his hand. There was the sound of a grunt as a heavily wrapped Xi popped through the entry way. And then a moment later so did the Force user.

Obi-Wan felt his breath catch as he stared at the tall figure, taking a step backwards as the muted signature gave away to one that he knew better then his own. Gloved hands reached up and pulled down the thick hood and a moment later the goggles and mask followed. Qui-Gon Jinn stared down at him, looking far grayer then he had the last time they met. The older man offered him a grim smile.

"You've been busy Padawan."


	15. Arrangements

The look of surprise disappeared with a small twitch of his lips before the boy belted his lightsaber. Obi-Wan looked terrible. A fine shimmer of sweat coated his face and there was a slight tremble throughout his body that made Qui-Gon immediately worry. He reached out with the Force, hoping to assess the boy's wounds, maybe he could –

"I'm healing, Master Jinn."

The formality of the name bit at him. Qui-Gon pursed his lips before turning to Xi. A short conversation and a slip of local currency and the boy was gone, leaving them alone.

"Turn around."

"It's not necessary-"

But Qui-Gon was already guiding him around by his shoulders. He winced at the remains of Obi-Wan's back. Patches of bright pink skin dotted across his back, concentrated mainly on his shoulders and mid back. It was indeed healing, but it was not nearly as far along as it should have been.

Qui-Gon pulled his gloves off with his teeth, keeping one hand firmly planted on the boy's shoulder, before ghosting Force filled fingers over the shredded skin gently. He couldn't help the small smirk as Obi-Wan gave a relieved groan, slumping a bit in his grasp. Qui-Gon had always been quite adept at healing for a field operative and he slowly guided the now complaint Obi-Wan over to the padded sleeping mat.

It was a little awkward at first, between Qui-Gon's naturally large frame and the boy's lanky teenage one, but with minimal adjustments they both managed to avoid the freezing stone.

It was a surreal moment for Qui-Gon. After so many years of searching, here he was. He continued running his fingers over the boy's back, willing the pain receptors to calm. There was another muffled sound of relief from Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon chuckled slightly. The boy hunched over, his chin rested on his clasped knees, eyes closed.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon ghosted over the largest splotch of flesh, "I don't know if I'm ready to believe you yet." The boy's entire body tensed to the point that the new flesh on his back stretched until it shone.

"I never asked you-"

Qui-Gon silenced him with a quick shake of his head. "I said yet, Obi-Wan. And you can not blame me for that. I have seen you do things – know of things that you have no right to. I don't know how-" He stopped with a sigh and pushed those thoughts away. That was for another time. He had something far more important to say. "I will be the first to admit that it takes me longer then most to realize my mistakes – I have always been this way."

"You don't have to-"

"Yes I do." He interrupted sharply. Qui-Gon moved so he was crouching in front of Obi-Wan, locking eyes with him so the boy would understand how serious he was. "I meant what I said that day, Obi-Wan. You are my Padawan. Whatever it is that is going on, I will help you."

The look on Obi-Wan's face was something that he couldn't read and for a moment the Jedi Master was almost beginning to think he'd said something wrong. The boy looked down, his face a picture of discontent.

"I can't accept your bid." Obi-Wan said darkly.

"What?"

"I can not accept your bid. Trust me," His voice was strained, "I would like to very badly."

"Then why not?" Qui-Gon's voice was sharper then he meant it to be. He didn't know what he was expecting, but this was not it.

"Because!" They both seemed surprise at the volume of his response. Obi-Wan shook his head, running a shaky hand through his hair. "There are…things I have done – things I've had to do," His cracked slightly, "Things I've caused."

Anguish was filtering slowly through their link in waves and Qui-Gon felt his heart twist for the boy in front of him. What could he have possibly done that would cause him so much guilt? So much self torture? His eyes searched Obi-Wan's face, his lips a thin line in thought. The Force was whispering to him, tugging him ever so slightly towards Obi-Wan.

"We have the foundation of a master-padawan link, do we not?" Obi-Wan looked up in surprise before nodding. "Then allow us to cement it. Over time, it will grow strong enough that you will be able to show me how it is you are unworthy."

A sharp laugh followed by a small smile and Qui-Gon realized it was the first time he'd truly seen the boy do either. "Wouldn't that be the same as becoming your padawan?"

"Ah, you've caught me." The Jedi Master answered dryly, holding his hands up in defeat. The boy's eyes narrowed.

"We can do that now, I suppose." Obi-Wan said softly, locking his eyes with his own. "I can show you and then you can make your decision. You will not like what you see."

"Our bond won't be strong enough for…" The look Obi-Wan was giving him stopped him short.

"Trust me. It is."

A moment of heavy silence fell and then Qui-Gon abruptly broke it, not allowing himself to dwell on _how_ it was possible for such a strong link to exist without him knowing about it. "Then I see no hindrances."

He moved to press his hands on either side of the boy's head – a part of him was anxious; anxious to make Obi-Wan his padawan, to finally understand the enigma that was this brooding child in front of him. Obi-Wan caught his hands by the wrists before they could make contact.

"I meant what I said." The intensity in his voice made it sound much deeper then it really was, "You will not like it."

"Do you doubt my judgment so, Obi-Wan?" His voice was intentionally hard. "Or do you think I take your warnings too lightly?"

The boy dropped his gaze. "I will not show you everything."

"That is your prerogative. Let go of my hands."

And slowly, he did.

"Are you ready?" Obi-Wan nodded slowly, bringing his eyes back up to the Jedi Master's face. And with that, Qui-Gon reached out –

* * *

_Pride, hope – he'd fought with everything he'd had; "I will not take you as my apprentice."_

_._

_Even lying down and bloody, Qui-Gon Jinn still looks gigantic. The Master's irritation with him was overwhelming. "I'm not testing you! Life tests you Obi-Wan! To pass it doesn't make you a Jedi – it make's you human."_

.

_He was beyond exhausted. His body felt like led, the bruises from when he'd gotten into scuffles with the mining guards hurt with each shift of weight. He was hesitant to ask – but the man had imprisoned him. And he'd said –_

" _I need to know about Xanatos."_

.

 _Obi-Wan fought to contain his grief, Master Tyvokk was dead, a_ Councilmember _was dead. It was the first death of a full fledged Jedi he'd ever encountered._

_Out of the corner of his eye he could see Quinlan in deep conversation with his master, his head bowed. For a moment the thirteen year old was acutely aware that he stood alone. The relationship with his master was growing; he would have to be satisfied with that._

_It didn't seem possible, though. The Wookie Jedi was so immensely strong, so wise, yet-_

_A heavy hand rested on his shoulder._

" _Obi-Wan," His Master's voice was low with understanding and Obi-Wan turned to face his Master, his eyes downcast even as relief rolled over him, "Come, walk with me."_

.

_Obi-Wan licks his lips, an explanation for why he'd been without contact for three days ready – fully expecting a dressing down – to find his Master smiling in true relief as Obi-Wan strides towards him._

" _I'm glad to see you in one piece, Padawan."_

_He flashes him a cheerful smile. "Same to you, Master."_

.

_Oh Force – too funny. Must hold it together. Obi-Wan folded his arms, tucking his hands into his sleeves as he fought to keep control of his humor. Seeing his Master in the local garb was just too much._

" _You look quite, uh, dignified Master."_

_The glare was somewhat lessened by the puffy taffeta. "Cheeky."_

.

_A droid army – an invasion force. To Naboo? Why? Next to him Qui-Gon voiced similar questions with a shake of the head. Obi-Wan couldn't fight his grin as he looks at the brooding Jedi._

" _You were right about one thing Master, the negotiations were short."_

" _You have a dry sense of humor, my Padawan."_

.

" _I will train the boy." Qui-Gon said steadily, resting his hand on Anakin's shoulders. The Council Chamber falls thickly quiet._

_Obi-Wan fights to keep his surprise from his face. What – wait. What?_

_._

_Red beams kept him from his Master._

Won't these things ever come down again?

_Qui-Gon blocked one stroke of the Sith and parried another. The Sith Lord blocked the Master's attack and then reversed it, slamming it's lightsaber into Qui-Gon's chin. The Master staggered backwards, half-dazed from the force of the unexpected blow. The Sith Lord let out a chilling grin and reversed his lightsaber, thrusting it through Qui-Gon._

" _No!" The grief that tore through Obi-Wan was like nothing he had ever felt before. On the other side of the training link his Master's mind erupted in pain. Obi-Wan heart felt like it was breaking._

.

_No - no - this couldn't be happening! Master!_

_"Obi-Wan. Promise me...Promise me you will train the boy."_

_Grief. Jealousy. Acceptance._

_"Yes, Master."_

.

_"Confer on you the level of Jedi Knight, the Council does. But agree with your taking this boy as your Padawan learner, I do not."_

_"Qui-Gon believed in him."_

_"The Chosen One, the boy may be. Nevertheless, grave danger, I fear in his training._

.

_A small boy, blonde, swore as he was deposited upon the training mats. Obi-Wan doesn't bother to keep the humor of his face._

He's so funny when he loses _._

_He pushes the humor aside, he must also be a Master._

" _You must curb your impatience, Anakin. Don't let it control you."_

" _But I did better didn't I?"_

_An unrestrained laugh. "Much better."_

" _Think Qui-Gon would be proud?"_

_The smile falters somewhat. "Yes, I know he would be."_

.

" _You don't understand me at all! I wish Qui-Gon was here instead."_

_Silence. Then the child erupts into tears._

" _I-I didn't mean that, Master. I-I'm s-sorry!"_

_Obi-Wan pulls the child into a hug, reminding himself that he had just lost his mother and the only life he'd ever known. "Sh, I know you didn't."_

.

" _You are_ not _arrogant, Master." Anakin seethed, "Master Vos has no idea what he's talking about!"_

_Obi-Wan laughed, resting a hand on the short boy's shoulder. "Quinlan is an old friend of mine, Padawan. I wouldn't take it so seriously."_

_Anakin gave him a scandalized look. "Why would a friend say that to the Council?"_

_The ferociousness that the boy was defending him with made his smile widen and he rustled the blonde's hair in affection. "Quinlan's special."_

" _Oh."_

_Obi-Wan snorted at the sudden understanding in his padawan's voice. "That's not what I meant."_

.

_A large hand pulls at a beard in frustration. "It was uncalled for Anakin!"_

_The blonde teenager swirls around angrily to face him. "Uncalled for? Master did you hear what he said about you?"_

" _It doesn't matter! You're a_ Jedi _Anakin! We don't use the Force in anger! You may have just put this entire mission at risk!"_

" _This is not fair!" The Force flashes with his heat, his padawan is nearly vibrating._

" _Enough! Go to your room and meditate on your actions!" An outraged look was thrown his way before he stormed off. An unnamed fear, tugging at the bottom of his stomach. So much anger…He is only fourteen. He has time._

.

_His leg hurts something god awful. The burn was almost up to his thigh, but Obi-Wan shakes his head at the medic droid's offering for pain medicine. He thanks his pain, thanks his body for letting him where its limits were – and let the pain go to the Force._

_It works. Kind of. Obi-Wan sighs. Why hadn't Anakin reported in –_

" _General Kenobi."_

" _What is it Kody?"_

" _We've located Grievous, sir."_

.

_The Temple in flames. Shaky footsteps through bodies of dead Jedi. Padawans – younglings –_

_Oh Force no – it couldn't be –_

_The security vids._

" _I have to see-"_

" _Watch, and only pain you will find."_

 _No!_ No! _– Anakin, why?_

.

_A sneer, one that twisted his padawan's normally sharp face into something different all together. Pain in his side, blood seeping through his fingers. The heat from the lava is overwhelming, seeping up from underneath the grating._

" _You were suppose to be the Chosen One!" His voice is horse. "You were suppose to bring balance to the Force! Not destroy it!"_

" _Please Obi-Wan, don't bore me." He spins the lightsaber in his hand gracefully. "A gift from a Padawan to his Master."_

_And then – nothing._

.

" _What do we have going on here Mace? A gathering in the Main Hall?"_

_Everything inside Obi-Wan came to a screeching halt at the sound of that voice._

* * *

Obi-Wan gently pushed Qui-Gon from his mind. He kept his eyes closed, even when he heard Qui-Gon take a sharp breath. He had shown him a handful of memories and even then the majority of them had been of his childhood. He had shown Qui-Gon the bare minimum needed to understand his adult life. He kept his eyes closed – Obi-Wan, General Kenobi – was to terrified to see what his former Master thought of him to open his eyes.

But General Kenobi was gone, as was so much of his confidence. Look were his confidence had lead him, look where his faith in his judgment had gotten them. Heavy hands rested on his shoulders and Obi-Wan forced himself to open his eyes. The look of exhausted understanding in his former Master's eyes caught him completely and utterly off guard. Obi-Wan lowered his gaze, staring intently at the spot where Qui-Gon's beard met his bottom lip.

"This is why you think you should not be my padawan?" His voice was softer then he'd ever heard it before. "You have been a man once – but that is not why you will not take my bid. Anakin's failings are not your own."

Obi-Wan's head shot up, "But-"

"If you must place blame, does it not rest also with me? Was it not I who placed Anakin in your care?"

_And I failed you._

"Stop it." Qui-Gon's voice was harsh. "You've failed at nothing."

Obi-Wan blinked, had the bond matured for Qui-Gon? The older Jedi snorted and sent him a sharp glare. Apparently so.

"Do you see my failings with Xanatos as indication of my own worth?"

Obi-Wan gave him a blank stare of disbelief. The two could hardly be compared. "Xanatos didn't perform a genocide on the Jedi."

"Evil is still evil!" Qui-Gon barked, shaking him by the shoulders sharply. "You have shown me so little of your life as a man – but I know you never purposely turned a blind eye to Anakin. Did others see the darkness in him any clearer? Tell me, did any of the Order act on this?"

"Others saw it." Obi-Wan was on the defensive, he couldn't figure out why he was but he recognized the feeling none the less.

Qui-Gon was insistent. "But did they act?"

He stared at Qui-Gon. For some reason, this was a thought he'd never considered and he found the concept slightly…alarming. Did it matter if they had not acted? Surely not, he was Anakin's Master, the responsibility laid with him. But…he shook his head. "I hear the truth in your words. Yet it is to new – to fresh for me to view it as such."

"Then I shall help you view it as such." There was a familiar determination in his former Master's voice that made Obi-Wan grin slightly. "We must accept our failings as such. Did you fail with your padawan? Perhaps. Did _you_ bring about the end of the Order? Don't be so vain!"

Obi-Wan blinked and then laughed. It was a harsh sound, but for once it lacked the dark emotions that usually shadowed it. He had missed this. "It has been a long time since anyone has put me in my place."

"I am glad to help."

Obi-Wan laughed again, shaking his head as he moved his stiff back. He let out a painful moan as the muscles moved. "Perhaps this wasn't the best position to have done that in. How long were we gone? Six hours?"

"Seven." Qui-Gon corrected. "Lay on your stomach, Padawan."

Obi-Wan froze mid shift, staring at the older man in open shock. After all that…The look Qui-Gon gave him was a mix between a challenge and open defiance.

"I haven't been sixteen in a long time, Qui-Gon."

"You need my help, can you deny it?" The Jedi Master shook his head, "Perhaps it is a temporary arrangement, but that doesn't change the fact that right now that is the exactly how you need me. And unless you plan on explaining to the Council you come from the future – which is unadvised – you need the protection of the title."

"I don't plan on involving them at all."

"That's incredibly foolish. You truly are arrogant if you think you can usurp such a complex conspiracy alone." The look Qui-Gon gave him spoke volumes of how well he considered Obi-Wan to currently be operating. "Unless, that is, you have exaggerated its depth."

He stiffened, glaring at the graying man. "I have not."

"Then why do you insist on fighting alone?"

"I will have no more Jedi die on my account."

"Is that honestly your decision?"

Obi-Wan stared at him for a moment, this conversation was taking a much different turn then he'd originally imagined. "What?"

"This plot affects us all, does it not? Some of the greatest fighters and minds are within the Order, why do you refuse to utilize the tools at your disposal?" Obi-Wan looked away from the older Jedi and Qui-Gon sighed. "In any case, it is not your decision only, Obi-Wan, remember that."

He pressed his lips into a thin line, he did not like the idea of involving the Order any more then he must, yet…he could hear the logic in Qui-Gon's words. He let out a sigh, bringing his hand up to rub at his shoulder muscles. Logic yes, but it didn't change the fact that he had no intention of it. "We will see."

The glare Qui-Gon sent him spoke volumes of how aware the Jedi Master had become of their link. He pursed his lips together, refusing to be cowed for his thoughts. He could feel Qui-Gon's irritation towards him pulsing on the other side of their link and he doubted highly that the Jedi Master had finished with that topic of conversation.

"Agree to be my padawan, Obi-Wan, if only until we have reached the end of this plot." Obi-Wan stared blankly at the older Jedi, "Let me help you."

Perhaps it was a moment of weakness on his part, but seeing Qui-Gon all but prostrate himself in his attempts to push his bid was too much. Spoke too deep to some part of him that was still thirteen. The Force hummed between them, pulsating around them and through their bond in a way that Obi-Wan had almost completely forgotten.

He spoke the truth, the mantle of apprentice would aid him greatly in his actions. It would make his life remarkably easier not to have to hide from the Jedi as well. Yet still, he disliked the idea of including the Order. And then there was the point that when Qui-Gon made his mind up about something it was damn near impossible to change it. And he just didn't know if he was strong enough right now to go into open war with the older Jedi over this.

Obi-Wan sighed and gave a weary nod before laying himself carefully onto his stomach. "For now."

The stiff muscles in his back stretched painfully and Obi-Wan closed his eyes in relief as Qui-Gon's fingers traveled across his back once more, each wave of the healing Force spreading across his burns like icy fingers.

Between Qui-Gon's ministrations and his own exhaustion, Obi-Wan barely felt the sleep suggestion.

* * *

Xi stuck his head into the cave cautiously and almost screamed when he found the new offworlder – _Jedi_ – staring at him. The big man made him nervous. Then again, so did Obi-Wan when he was awake. It was Xi's educated opinion that Jedi were seriously creepy. Wizards that could make you act against your will, Xi was beginning to believe the things he'd learned in school more and more the longer he spent time among them.

At least they weren't mind melding or whatever the hell they'd been doing before. At first he'd thought…well it didn't matter what he'd thought. Let's just say he'd lived in or around the red sector for to long. But it was clear something else was going on, something freaky and unnatural.

Made him shudder just thinking 'bout it.

"Are you hungry?"

The man's voice made him jump and he let out a screech as he smacked his head painfully against the low ceiling. He clasped his hand over his mouth apologetically, glancing over to the sleeping Obi-Wan – only to find him glaring in his direction. The big man patted his savior's shoulder.

"Go back to sleep."

And with a strange noise he did.

"Did you, you know." Xi made little waves in the air with his hands.

"What?"

"You know." He repeated the gesture to a blank look. "You know! Spell him!"

"No." The Jedi's voice was flat. "He's just tired."

"Oh."

And with that Xi sat down, feeling rather stupid. The silence was deafening.

"So." He rolled his bowl nosily across the floor. He placed it's on its lip, rolling it so it was precariously balanced. Each time it moved it made a funny little squeak sound. He continued this game for quite a while.

"Will you please stop that?"

"Sure thing." He let the bowl fall back even. The silence was back. He clicked his tongue against his teeth. And then again a moment latter. And then a few times more for good measure.

"Xi."

"Yes."

"You're tired."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

Xi blinked. Whoa. He did feel really tired. Like really tired. Must be all the warm fo- with a sigh he slumped over into his sleep sack.

When he awoke next, it was to the smell of cooking meat. He sat up to find Obi-Wan crouched before the fire, looking healthier then Xi had ever seen him and – oddly – with a new hair cut.

"Good gods, what did you do to your hair?" Obi-Wan gave him a startled look, halting in his cooking to stare at him and for a moment Xi could only gawk, slightly taken aback that this was the same person he'd been nursing. There was a healthy pink to his savior's normally ashen complexion and the strange looking hair style made him seem much younger then Xi had originally assumed.

"This is a traditional hair cut of a padawan leaner." He said after a moment, spearing a flank of meat before offering it to him. Xi took it with a slow shake of the head. The robes, the hair – it was clear that Jedi had no sense of style.

"I see you're feeling better." Xi said cheerfully, biting into the meat and letting out a gasp as it instantly burnt the roof of his mouth. "What do you plan to do next?"

"There is still one more I must find before I can leave this place." Xi froze, nearly dropping the meat. He was going to kill someone again?

"Why?" His voice shook as he spoke and Obi-Wan sighed before looking up at him but it was the other Jedi who answered him.

"He does not seek this woman to kill her, Xi. He seeks to bring her to justice. It is not the Jedi way to kill without reason." Qui-Gon explained as Obi-Wan brought him his meal.

"Xi," His savior settled next to the older Jedi, bringing his own piece meat to his mouth, "what can you tell me about the Government Broadcasting Headquarters?"

Xi actually did drop his meat this time. "You can't seriously be thinking of going there, are you? You'll be annihilated; it's the most heavily guarded building in the capital. Even more so then the Royal Palace." When neither Jedi seemed particularly affected by this news Xi blanched. "Every soldier and bounty hunter has got your face all but tattooed on them, Obi-Wan!"

"Is there no way in?"

"None!" He answered vehemently, "Trust me on this, alright. I know the inner workings of just about every government like the back of my hand-" (and he did, having tried to break into most of them) "– there is no way to break into the GBH. It's suicide to even try."

"I suppose we'll just have to ask for an appointment." Qui-Gon mused after a moment, sending his savior a sideways glance. Obi-Wan nodded his agreement. Xi felt like ripping his hair off. Were they deaf?

"You're just going to walk in and ask for an appointment." Obi-Wan nodded. "That's your plan."

"Yes."

"You can't be serious."

Qui-Gon rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm them. "I'm afraid so."

"Okay." Xi stared at the two of them, convinced he was looking at dead men. _This_ was their plan? "Like, really though?"

His savior sent him a winning smile, "Really."


	16. Understanding

_The sands of Tatooine spread out before him like a never ending blanket, dotted here and there with craggy hills and cliffs. He stared at them for a moment more before turning away. His feet took him across a well traveled path and towards the hut nestled between the rock faces. It was small, worn and somehow utterly familiar, though Obi-Wan had never seen it before. Yet he knew somehow deeply and instinctively, that you had to push the bottom of the door with your foot to force it open as the pressure seals had warped after years of weather. He deposited his cloak and boots in the provided places at the front door, moving into the kitchen and reaching for the kettle with practiced movements._

_In the same manner that this familiarity hadn't bothered him, Obi-Wan wasn't surprised when he found Anakin's lanky form sitting at his kitchen table, dirty bare feet propped up carelessly and hands clasped behind his head. He wiggled his toes at him in greeting. At Obi-Wan's sharp look the teen smirked and pulled his feet from the table._

_Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and joined the boy at the table moments later. There was a comfortable silence between them as the water boiled. He brought a hand up to his face, running it down the sides of his beard. The smirk was still on Anakin's face as Obi-Wan observed him, grey blue eyes running hungrily over the teen's features._

_They didn't speak of it, though the past hung heavily between them. He didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about it. He was content to simply sit here and be. As if sensing his thoughts the smirk muted itself and Anakin finally brought his hands down from the back of his head._

" _You can't stay here forever._ " _The words were soft, hesitant even. Not Anakin's style and the blonde boy seemed distinctively uncomfortable. Obi-Wan stood and took the hissing kettle from the burner, pulling down two cups and filling them with a rough, desert moss that he knew would make the brew taste slightly sweet. He returned to his seat, offering the other cup to the frowning boy. "Look-"_

_A strange look passed his face before Anakin made a sputtering sound, slamming the cup down with enough force that it spilled tea on his hands._

" _Bloody hell!"_

" _Language." The reprimand was out of his mouth before Obi-Wan realized what he was saying, as was Anakin's knee jerk answer._

" _Sorry, Master." He froze at his words, suddenly flushing against his tan. They stared at each other awkwardly before Obi-Wan looked away, forcing himself to stare at his tea. He could feel Anakin's eyes on him like a weight. He cleared his throat uncomfortably._

" _You don't have to call me that." He said quietly after a moment, refusing to look at anything other then his cup._

" _I…yeah." The blonde finished lamely. Obi-Wan watched mutely as Anakin's toes curled against the rough floor of his hut. "It's just, er, I rather think I'm being born."_

_That caught his full attention and he looked up at Anakin sharply, his brows knitting together as he stared at him. "You're two months early."_

_Anakin nodded quietly, "Yeah, but I guess a lot of things are changing now."_

_A thick silence fell on them and Obi-Wan found himself unable to look away from his former apprentice. It hurt to look at him. It hurt to remember him._

" _Will you come for me?" The question caught him completely off guard and Obi-Wan visible recoiled from the blonde, staring at him with narrowed eyes. He couldn't keep the sudden welling of resentment from overwhelming him. How could he come for Anakin? He had thought of it before but now, faced with this moment, the thought of Anakin anywhere near the Temple made something inside him snarl in a very un-Jedi like way._

" _I was rather under the impression you were done with my teachings." He snapped, the cup in his hand cracking under the force of his anger. Anakin's eyes darkened, his lips setting in a familiar scowl. The splash of hot tea against his hand brought Obi-Wan back from whatever plain of anger he had temporarily disappeared to and he forced himself to take a deep breath. When he spoke again, it was with a measure of diplomacy that only came from twenty-six years of field work._ " _Is that what you want? To become a Jedi again?"_

" _I want Padmé." His eyes were dark and Obi-Wan leaned backwards into his seat, watching as the blonde's appearance twisted in front of him. Almost at once his hair seemed to grow darker, his eyes flashing as red and gold crept across the iris. Desire and fear made his expression wild and suddenly he was staring at a Darth, a practitioner of the Sith Arts. "I want you to bring me to her. I_ will _keep her from dying this time!"_

_The breath seemed to leave him all at once and suddenly all Obi-Wan could feel for his former apprentice was pity. He knew from the sudden tensing of the Anakin's wide shoulders that he could read the emotion in his stare. He snarled at him, leaping to his feet._

" _Don't look at me like that!" He brought his hand forward in a pinching movement and Obi-Wan felt his heart sink when he realized what the blonde was attempting to do._

" _The Force will not respond to either of us here." He said softly, knowing somehow that it was a truth. For a moment Obi-Wan thought the boy was going to physically attack him but Anakin managed to reign himself in._

" _You will take me to Naboo!"_

_Obi-Wan stared at the blonde in disbelief. "I will not. Do you think me so mad that I would place you on the same planet as him?"_

" _I need to be with her! Is it not enough that you took her from me the first time?"_

" _You did that yourself, the moment the first Jedi fell to your blade."_

_With a strangled scream Anakin threw himself at him. Obi-Wan moved with the motion, tipping the chair backwards and flipping the tall teenager. The tussle was short and awkwardly done in such a small space, leaving them both breathless, but in the end he managed to pin his former apprentice._

" _Are you so jealous of what I had that you would deny her to me?" Anakin hissed, seething in his grip. Obi-Wan felt the pity from before fill him – he knew the boy well enough to see the desperation in his movements._

" _Jealousy, Anakin? Is that what you think this is about?" He couldn't keep the disappointment from his voice._

" _Yes!" Scarlet eyes stared up at him angrily and it seemed to Obi-Wan that they almost glowed with the boy's fury. "Jealous that someone wanted to love me, jealous of my talent! My power! You were always holding me back! I could have had everything if it wasn't for you!"_

_The words shouldn't have hurt nearly as much as they did, he had heard them before after all. Still, it felt rather like being stabbed in the heart all over again._

" _Anakin," Obi-Wan's voice cracked and he stopped, steeling it as he set his heart against the boy underneath him. "Do you not remember the platform? Do you really think Padmé would have stayed after the Temple?"_

_Resentment flared across his face. "She would have understood, she didn't know about the plot and-"_

" _Anakin," Obi-Wan managed around clenched teeth, "Do not disgrace her memory."_

_He let out a grief ridden choking sound. "She can't die!"_

" _Everything dies, Anakin." He withdrew from him, hunching slightly as he stood at his full height under the curved roof. Anakin stayed on the floor, glaring at him with a look of hate. Grief filled him, overwhelming in its completeness. "I wonder when it is the boy I loved died?"_

_There was a bitter snort, "When did you ever know anything about me, Obi-Wan?"_

* * *

The emotions he felt flaring across the bond were complex to say the least and Qui-Gon hovered over the still Obi-Wan, watching the deepness of his sleep uneasily. He wanted to awaken the boy – it was clear that whatever dream Obi-Wan was having wasn't pleasant. Qui-Gon couldn't help but think of the nightmare the boy had had all those years ago in the cell. Or the words he had said after them. But the Force had stilled his hand and he knew that whatever dream it was that his newly minted padawan was having, it was something that had to play out.

That didn't mean Qui-Gon had to like it. He sat next to his padawan unhappily, arms crossed as he monitored the boy's condition, ready to step in and awaken him should he consider it necessary. From what he could tell, the boy was an early riser so he had been surprised when Obi-Wan had continued to sleep well into the afternoon. He was even more surprised when he failed to respond to Xi's clumsy attempts to awaken him.

The Geaugan boy sat clear on the other side of the cave now, driven there as Qui-Gon's reactions became more and more agitated and was staring at him nervously. He was frightening the boy with his anger but he was hard pressed to care. A frightened Xi was a silent Xi – a rare thing where the teen was involved. Silence was exactly what he needed at the moment and Qui-Gon took this unwelcome break as a chance to sort through his thoughts.

The memories that Obi-Wan had shared with him had ingrained themselves into his own psyche in a way that he hadn't been aware they could. He would have to ask Master Yoda if he'd ever heard of borrowed memories becoming one with the viewers own. The memories were vivid. Qui-Gon found he could recall the temperature, the smell, the feel of fabric on his skin. To add to the bizarreness he found that he could remember some of them in reverse. It had taken him a few times of reviewing it to realize that he was no longer looking out from Obi-Wan's eyes but rather observing him from the 'Qui-Gon' of the memories. To his dismay, Qui-Gon found the few memories that the boy had shared of his adult life were already fading from his memory. He remembered them as he remembered the fantasy holos he used to read when he was a child.

And then there were the memories themselves. Qui-Gon was still unsure of what to take of everything he saw. Was Obi-Wan from the future? He couldn't bring himself to think those words completely but there was no denying the images he had seen were real. The only other explanation he could think of was that Obi-Wan had had a vision. Most Jedi had at least one in their life, but for it to be so…epic was unheard. Even the most renowned Seers of the Order had only ever seen bits and snatches.

Qui-Gon was hesitant to bring up that possibility. The trust between the two of them was still so new, so fragile he was afraid the boy would take it as a sign of disbelief and close himself off to him once more. Qui-Gon groaned, bringing a hand up to rub his forehead.

_I keep calling him boy, but in his mind he's only eleven years younger then me._

It was clear that what had happened had shaken Obi-Wan to his very core. The confident, agile man Qui-Gon had seen in the visions was no where present in the broken boy he'd been dealing with. A part of him mourned to see such a loss. No matter what Obi-Wan thought about himself, Qui-Gon had seen the great man he had been. And he was determined to find that man again.

He would restore his padawan's faith in himself, even if he had to fight Obi-Wan every step of the way.

Next to him Obi-Wan's breath hitched and Qui-Gon turned, relieved to know he was finally awake. The feeling died the moment he saw the heavy grief across the boy's face, the unshed tears that made his eyes seem glossy and bright. For a moment he felt the grief swallow him as well, a tangible presence in his mind as it bled through their link. And then it was gone, muffled by heavy shields as Obi-Wan rolled away from him, turning to face the wall.

Qui-Gon frowned and reached a hand out, fully intent on comforting his apprentice – only to freeze as Obi-Wan's faint voice reached him.

"Don't. Please." His voice was strained, shoulders quivering as he brought a hand up to cover his face. "Just…I don't think I can if you touch me."

He nodded mutely, clenching his hands together in his lap uselessly. Qui-Gon swallowed against the uncomfortable feeling in his throat. It hurt him that Obi-Wan felt like he had to hide his feelings from him. It made sense, he supposed. Obi-Wan had been on his own for a very long time. It was to be expected really, after what he'd gone through. He tried not to feel rejected but Qui-Gon found he couldn't stop the bitter feeling from filling him. Qui-Gon's breath caught as Obi-Wan's hand grasped his wrist, squeezing it reassuringly. He felt his mind blanch slightly as he stared into a set of kind eyes.

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan's was soft, "I'm not rejecting you. It's just if you comfort me right now I'm going to loose it and bawl like a baby."

Shame filled Qui-Gon at those words and he ducked his head in a stiff nod. How was it that whenever he was around Obi-Wan, things never went the way he wanted them to? He should be giving solace, not receiving it. Frustration suddenly bloomed its ugly head in his chest, coupled with a helplessness that made him grit his teeth. The hand squeezed again and disappeared as Obi-Wan sat up next to him.

"I'm okay now." The boy gave him a small smile. "Really."

Qui-Gon stared at him, incapable of even processing such a blatant lie.

_You would think that at his age he would know better._

With a shake of his head Qui-Gon reached out, hooking his fingers on the back of Obi-Wan's neck and pulled him forward until the boy's forehead was pressed against his chest.

"Cry."

And with a shudder, he did.

* * *

The Government Broadcasting Headquarters was an impressive structure, with four tiers and a large central tower that dominated the skyline. From the armored truck that Xi had 'acquired' (much to Obi-Wan's amusement and Qui-Gon's annoyance) the two Jedi discussed their options.

"Once we get in there, we'll have two Sith to deal with for sure, maybe more children like at the academy. Plus whatever security we run into." Obi-Wan critiqued with a sigh. There was a high chance that there were going to be a lot of dead people before this was over. "I doubt she'll let us just walk into her office. It'll be best if we split up."

Next to him Qui-Gon shook his head. "No, that's too dangerous. We don't know what kind of skill this Sith Mistress has. Her apprentice alone managed to injury you greatly."

He shot the older man an annoyed look. "I was distracted."

"And if you get distracted again?" Qui-Gon asked dryly before folding his hands in his robe in a move of finality. "No, it is far too dangerous. This is what we shall do -"

Obi-Wan pursed his lips as he listened to the plan the older Jedi laid out. He had been afraid of this. He loved Qui-Gon, he truly did. But sometimes the Jedi Master could be a rather patronizing. What was the world that Mace had used? Ah yes, tyrannical. He needed Qui-Gon to stop seeing him as a sixteen year old boy. He interrupted his Master with a sharp movement of the hand.

"I am not a child, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon looked at him in surprise. "I know that, Obi-Wan."

"With all do respect, I don't think you do." He brought a hand up to rub at his eyes in frustration, suddenly feeling every day of his true age. "I have been a field agent for twenty six years, a Master – to whatever ends – for fourteen of them." He shook his head, leveling the older Jedi with a serious stare. "I did not come back from the dead to be coddled like a blind toddler. Though I may bear the title of Padawan, I am a Master in my own right. This will not work if you can not see that."

The range of emotions that passed over his Master's face was astonishing, especially considering that it was Qui-Gon. He could visibly see the moment Qui-Gon truly understood. He gave Obi-Wan a grim, apologetic smile.

"Forgive me, Obi-Wan. Of course."

Obi-Wan sighed. He felt like he'd just killed something between them once and for all. And he had, for he knew that Qui-Gon finally understood that he was no child. He couldn't help but feel sad, as ridiculous as it was. For even though he just spoke those words to Qui-Gon, a part of him wanted to be coddled. A heavy hand rested on his shoulder and he was surprised to find Qui-Gon still smiling at him, though this time it was much brighter.

"As a binary partnership then."

Obi-Wan nodded dumbly as he felt a warmth bloom in his chest. Binary partners were two Jedi usually of equal standing that chose to complete their missions as a pair. It was not odd to find former Master-Padawan teams as binaries, though more often it was used by close friends simply because of the level of equality such a partnership usually demanded between the two.

He gave the older man an even smile. "I believe that would be acceptable."

"Though I reserve the right to act like your Master should I feel fit."

"That's a bit open, don't you think?" He asked dryly as he eyed his Master wearily.

Qui-Gon snorted and threw the truck door open. "Somehow I think you'll let me know if I overstep my bounds. Xi!"

A black shaggy head appeared through the front compartments rear window. "What?"

"You should get out of here, chances are it's going to get messy." Qui-Gon shot the teen a dangerous look as he opened his mouth to object. "I mean it."

Obi-Wan gave the irritated Geaugan a grin and a shrug before following his Master out. The cold whipped at his bare face before he yanked his face covering up. The gates of the GBH towered above them as they drew near and Obi-Wan could already see the guards breaking away to move towards him.

"How do you want to do this?" He asked, voice slightly muffled, as he gave the guards a friendly wave. He caught the sight of a brief grin on Qui-Gon's scarf less face before he too yanked his face covering up.

"Don't worry. Can you handle the background noise?" Obi-Wan nodded, falling in step behind his Master. Qui-Gon greeted the guards, the Force whispering between them as he influenced their mind. Obi-Wan set out to eliminate the background observers, sending out a general current of will, less direct then a mind suggestion. A gentle urging for anyone watching them to look away, slide their eyes over them as if they were no longer there. They made their way into the crowded lobby and he felt himself sweat slightly as the number of minds he needed to convince to look away increase. A few minutes later and Qui-Gon had gotten them an appointment with Terlius.

Obi-Wan let out a breath as the elevator doors closed, releasing the Force. "She didn't even bother using an alias."

"And her pride now serves us." Qui-Gon stated calmly, folding his hands into his sleeves. The lift shook slightly and Obi-Wan sighed, taking in the image of them side by side in the lift glass. He would have to get used to being dwarfed by someone other then Anakin, Qui-Gon was a giant of a man.

_Anakin._

It had been ages since he had allowed himself to cry, to simply grieve and Obi-Wan had truly needed it after the encounter. He didn't know what to make of it all really. How could he have been talking to his former padawan if the boy hadn't been born yet? And it was clearly his Anakin. He knew it couldn't be a dream, so how?

" _I want Padmé."_

What was he suppose to do? Obi-Wan couldn't just leave Anakin to live his life out as a slave. He still loved the boy, no matter what he had done. But he knew he couldn't bring himself to have Anakin among the Jedi again. Nor could he bring Anakin anywhere near that snake of a man. Next to him Qui-Gon cleared his throat.

"Center yourself on the present, Obi-Wan." His Master's voice was even and Obi-Wan sighed, dropping his eyes to stare at the blinking floor light.

"Yes, Master." The lift doors opened with a bing and both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan blinked in surprise at the guard filled hallway. Their lightsabers ignited with a hum and Obi-Wan found himself slipping into step behind his Master. "I'll take the left flank."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Keep the causalities as low as possible."

It took them less then ten minutes to clear the hallway, what the guards didn't have in skill they made up in raw numbers. Both Jedi were panting when they finally stop streaming in from the emergency lifts.

"At this rate she'll escape." Obi-Wan said crossly as he followed Qui-Gon across the hallway, stepping over groaning injured with every step. Qui-Gon grimly nodded in agreement.

"Not much we can do about that." With a jerk of his lightsaber Qui-Gon fried the door controls and with a hiss they slid opened. He paused as he stepped into the room, a look of confusion flashing over his face. Obi-Wan followed behind his Master and groaned. A row of army droids were lined up neatly before them. As he watched, the lights along their base flared to life and the droids began to move. They were state of the art now - but truly just a shadow of the technology that would come.

"I've dealt with them before, they're prototypes." He pointed to the lengthy, thick cables that connected each droid to a wall mounted generator. "Limited reach but quick. Cut off their power cables if you can, or else the head. That usually stops them."

Qui-Gon nodded, easily deflecting the first row of blaster bolts. "Let's make this quick then."

The two of them made short work of the droids and Obi-Wan nearly screamed when the hallway behind them began to fill with more guards. Qui-Gon shook his head, pushing him towards the doors. "We'll make a run for it. Find a door we can rewire close."

* * *

Xi really didn't know how this had come about. Or why these kinds of things always seemed to happen to him. One moment he was happily sitting in the nice warm truck, watching the snow fall and wondering if his dear savior and his creepy wizard friend was dead yet and the next his head was in a bag and was being dragged, rather painfully he might add, up numerous flights of stairs.

He'd pissed off a lot of people in his short life; he sort of always thought that something like this would happen. He rather expected one of the various loan sharks finally catching up with him. Yet when the hood was ripped off and Xi was already half way through his spiel of his innocence he realized rather abruptly that this wasn't a loan shark at all.

The sight of the breathtaking blonde woman with ferocious red lips hovering over him scared him far more. Xi felt the blood leave his face in a rush.

"Iianna."

There was a flash of perfectly white teeth. "You must be Fuan Yi."

* * *

Qui-Gon was breathing heavy as he leaned against the door, ignoring the sound of blaster bolts being deflected on the other side. By his side, Obi-Wan was drying his sweaty palms on his pants. They were trying to exhaust them, a tried and true action that was certainly beginning to work. They were currently trapped in a small antechamber, unable to unlock the door in front of them and backtracking was impossible.

Xi hadn't been kidding when he said this place was built like a fort. They had enough men to furnish a small army. He shared an annoyed look with Obi-Wan as they heard the sound of yet even more boots approaching. The younger man was in better shape then Qui-Gon, his breath only slightly strained, but that was to be expected. Qui-Gon wasn't as young as he used to be. Annoyance aside, he was pleased to finally have an unobstructed view of Obi-Wan's lightsaber abilities. The younger Jedi's saber play was top notch, incredibly so. He would have to ask for a spar when they got out of this, so he could truly measure the depth of Obi-Wan's skills. Though he couldn't help but wonder why the boy had stopped using Ataru. Qui-Gon was considered a master of Form IV, surely he would have taught it to Obi-Wan.

"Was that Soresu I saw you using?"

"Yes. I dropped Ataru as my primary after you died."

"Ah." Obi-Wan sent him an apologetic smile. Qui-Gon waved it away. "Everyone dies."

There was a hissing sound and they both looked up in surprise as the door in front of them opened. The large office was empty saved for Terlius, leaning casually against her desk. She looked devastating beautiful and utterly collected in black silk and leather. She gave them a cheerful smile and Qui-Gon felt his breath catch as a memory of an equally stunning child rose to the surface. He knew this woman from the Temple.

Iianna Terlius.

Iian's sister! How could he not have recognized her? She'd been just a little older then Xanatos' clan . Supposedly she was killed in route to her assignment to AgriCorps - but so had Xanatos if you read the records. Iian knew, Qui-Gon realized darkly. He must have known. Obi-Wan stepped away from Qui-Gon, a look on his face that the older man instantly disliked.

"I'll handle this." He said as he slipped his cloak from his shoulders. "You shouldn't be involved."

Qui-Gon frowned, "Obi-Wan wait, we need to bring her back to the Temple and-"

"No." He interrupted darkly, "I can't take that risk."

"Obi-Wan, don't-" Qui-Gon reached determinedly for his arm but the younger man stepped out of his reach and into the office. The door hissed shut, Qui-Gon's finger brushing across the cool metal as it closed, "-do something you'll regret."

A conversation in the cave came unbidden to the forefront of his mind, filling him with a sharp feeling of dread.

" _There is still one more I must find before I can leave this place." Xi froze, nearly dropping the meat. A look of pure horror crossed his face as he stared at Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon could almost hear the boy's thoughts. He thought Obi-Wan sought to kill this woman. He quickly moved to correct and reassure the boy._

" _He does not seek this woman to kill her, Xi. He seeks to bring her to justice. It is not the Jedi way to kill without reason."_

_Xi did not look convinced._

And now neither was Qui-Gon. The Force sent a warning a split second before the crimson blade descended. He bent over backwards, spinning out of the way, his own blade parrying. The monster of a humanoid that was Terlius' apprentice stood before him and Qui-Gon fought to recall its name as he ducked again. The antechamber was the tiny, hardly enough room for a fight and Qui-Gon growled as he ducked again, crossing the width in seven wide steps. The beast lunged at him again and Qui-Gon switched tactics, stepping into the strike and catching the Sith off guard as he twisted behind him, green blade slashing across the humanoid's back.

He had to finish this quickly and get to Obi-Wan. He couldn't stifle the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

* * *

Iianna Terlius gave him a winning smile as she sipped from the wine glass in her hand. "Obi-Wan Kenobi. So nice to meet you in a more agreeable situation. I do hope you don't hold that slave thing against me."

Obi-Wan ignored her, a flick of his wrist igniting his lightsaber. Iianna set the wine glass down with a shake of the head.

"What is wrong with males these days?" She asked forlornly before calling her own lightsaber to her hand. She played with the hilt before letting out a long sigh. "We don't have to do this, Obi dear. I really don't feel like I deserve being hunted down so. I rather feel put out, honestly. I mean, have I ever done anything to you personally?"

"That's not important." Obi-Wan answered darkly. "You're a Sith, you must be contained."

"Contained or murdered?" She asked with a snarl, her crimson blade flaring to life as she leapt towards him. Obi-Wan met her blade easily and reversed it, bringing his own down in a wide arc. Terlius jerked backwards, reaching out with the Force and sending a series of wall decorations hurtling at him. Obi-Wan cut them down as they reached him, catching the desk she sent flying at him moments later and sending it back at her. Obi-Wan threw himself after it, using the it's distraction to land a blow across her chest. Terlius veered out of the way at the last moment and the deadly slash was rendered a burn. She snarled at him, one hand coming to clutch at the front of her destroyed robes.

"You think you're so much better then me? So high up on your pedestal, little Jedi!" She backed up until her back was pressed against the wall and Obi-Wan cursed as a door suddenly slid open behind her.

_You're letting her dictate the battlefield!_

Obi-Wan pushed passed the warning and followed the woman outside, wincing against the freezing wind that bit at his exposed skin and cut easily through his robes.

It had been snowing heavily when they'd arrived at the building and the blizzard was in full force now. Obi-Wan could hardly see a few feet in front of him, much lest Terlius. The Force screamed out a warning and Obi-Wan instantly brought his lightsaber up to block, dropping to his feet and sweeping Terlius' own out from underneath her. The Sith cursed, catching herself with her hand before shifting her weight and flipping away. Obi-Wan lunged after her but she'd already disappeared into the snow.

"What's wrong, Obi-Wan? Can't see to well?" He spun around, lightsaber pointed threateningly towards where he heard the voice. He threw himself to the side as the crimson blade slashed from his right. "That was slow, Obi-Wan! Almost to slow. It's the cold, five more minutes of this and you'll be dead."

Obi-Wan grunted and brought his blade up hastily to block a series of attacks. He pressed forward, easily taking the offensive from the woman but she managed to dance away again, disappearing into white.

"Wanna know a secret about my kind?" He swung around, nearly catching the Sith before she slipped away once again. "We Iillam don't feel cold. Not like you Humans do."

He cursed himself, trying to fight off the bone chilling cold that was steadily making it harder to react. A trap, Obi-Wan realized bitterly, and he'd walked right into it. Willingly into it. Terlius was trying to even the playing field, hoping to make up for what she lacked in combat skills. Obi-Wan closed his eyes – they were useless anyway, serving only to distract him. How many times had he done sightless exercises in his life? This was practically Jedi basics here. He had to calm down, clear his mind and focus on what the Force was telling him.

Obi-Wan allowed himself to relax, feeling the tension fall free of his shoulders as he did so. The cold seemed to seep into his very bones, but he forced himself to ignore it. Steady, deep breathes. Reach with the Force, let it tell you where –

His eyes snapped open and Obi-Wan leapt forward, blade crackling angrily as it parried. He kept on her, striking fast and hard, determined to keep her from being able to slip away. Terlius gasped and for a moment she met his strikes one for one but he could feel her weakening. There was a flash of silver to his left and Obi-Wan broke away, barely missing the vibro shiv that Terlius had pulled from seeming out of no where. She broke away from him but Obi-Wan followed at a sprint, determined not to loose her this time.

Terlius clumsily threw the shiv at him, not even looking over her shoulder as she did so. Obi-Wan easily avoided it and closed in on her, blue blade half way down in a strike – only to stop so violently he actually sent himself tumbling forward. He was on his feet in an instant, staring furiously at the Sith. Terlius had Xi by the hair, the Geaugan teen kneeling painfully before her, back arched as he tried to ease the pressure on his scalp. Xi stared back at him pitifully, lips blue and frightfully pale. Ice had frozen over his nose completely and the poor boy was panting heavily. Terlius' blade hovered close enough to his neck that the ice there was melting.

"Move and I kill him!"

* * *

Qui-Gon used the impact against the wall to shoot himself forward, slashing down with his lightsaber as he did so. The humanoid was good, but his Master either was poor in the combat area herself or really didn't care if her apprentice died or not. It was raw force that was keeping the Sith alive. Qui-Gon blocked another one of his blows, hissing at the vibrations race painfully down his arms. He had taken to wielding his lightsaber like a two hander as much as possible, the extra force helped defuse the power of each strike.

Qui-Gon growled, disliking the scattered emotions he could feel coming through the bond. Deactivating his lightsaber, Qui-Gon caught the humanoid by his cloak and tugged, using the momentum of it's charge to catch it off balance. It stumbled and he lunged forward, using the Force to leap over it, hooking his fingers underneath it's breathing apparatus and yanked hard. The humanoid gave a shriek, trying to grasp at the flailing tubes as a foul smelling green gas escaped them. Qui-Gon ignited his own blade and leaped forward, slitting the creature open from nose to naval. The red blade slid limply from it's hand before the behemoth collapsed. Qui-Gon hesitated only for a moment, calling the dead Sith's lightsaber to his hand and clasping it onto his own belt before carving a hole in the door with his blade.

The Force was driving now. He needed to get to Obi-Wan. Now.

He kicked the dislodged circle out violently, ignoring the burn of the hot metal as it scrapped against him as he all but leapt through the hole, sprinting towards the flaring Force signatures. He stepped in the cold, blinking against the low visibility as he struggled to make out his surroundings. Obi-Wan's force signature stood out like a beacon though and Qui-Gon carefully made his way through the white out. He clamped down on his Force signature, muting it as he glanced around wearily. He did not know if the landing pad had railings or not. He'd have to step carefully.

He could just make out tense figures a few feet in front of him and he silently moved forward, lightsaber at the ready. He felt his stomach twist as he stepped closer, finally able to see Terlius' figure looming over a second which he suspected with a sinking heart to be Xi. Obi-Wan's fierce demand seconds later confirmed his fear.

"Release him! He has nothing to do with this!"

"Why on earth would I do that?" Terlius barked sharply, her voice tight and ugly. She tightened her grip on the Geaugan's head and gave it a shake for good measure. "I'm walking out of here, Obi-Wan, or your little friend here's going to get it."

_Qui-Gon?_

The touch of Obi-Wan's mind was hesitant, though Qui-Gon embraced it fully.

_I'm here._

He could feel the younger man's frustration and Qui-Gon pressed his calm onto him as he deftly made his way around the pair, nearing the Sith as much he dared too. He gathered the Force around him quickly and reached out with it, yanking the boy from her grasp even as Terlius' head snapped towards him in alarm. He'd barely caught the flailing teen before Obi-Wan was on the woman. Cursing, Qui-Gon dropped Xi, only just catching the blue blade before it decapitated the Iillam. He grunted under the force of Obi-Wan's strike, trying to keep his own lightsaber from cutting into the downed woman's throat.

"What are you doing?" The rage he felt on the other side of the bond almost made him take a step backwards.

"Don't do this, Obi-Wan." He said breathlessly, trying to deflect the blue blade to the side. Obi-Wan refused to move, his face set darkly. "You don't want to do this."

"Move!" He cried out in frustration, leaning further into the strike.

"No." Qui-Gon groaned, his shoulders popping. This was all a bit much after the day he'd had and he called effortlessly on the Force, using its strength to keep from giving an inch. "I won't let you do this. She's defeated, Obi-Wan. Stop this!"

"You don't understand, Qui-Gon, move."

He pressed himself through the bond, fighting against the shields that Obi-Wan had slammed down, ramming his presence against them again and again. He willed his padawan to feel him, to hear reason. "Take her to the Council to be judged, we have to-"

"No! I can't take the risk that she'll escape. I can't - I have to do this!" Obi-Wan was putting his full weight behind the blow now and Qui-Gon hissed between his grit teeth, he knew he couldn't hold out much longer. But he couldn't allow Obi-Wan to kill with such hate. He may not see it now, but the younger man would regret it fully.

"Can't you see what's happening? If you kill her now, it would be murder!" His desperate cries fell on deaf ears and Qui-Gon struggled to keep his hold. No. He could not let this happen. Not to Obi-Wan. He could not allow it. He gathered his concern and threw it at his wildly at his padawan, hoping the sheer force of his will to break through the shielding. "You can not kill her out of fear! Can't you see where that will lead you?"

Obi-Wan gasped next to him, stepping back as if Qui-Gon had physically pushed him. His green blade remained pressed against Terlius' throat, keeping the Sith pinned as he watched the conflict on Obi-Wan's face. Slowly the younger man nodded, deactivating his lightsaber. Qui-Gon let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The danger had passed, at least for now. This was something that would have to be discussed at another time. The Force hummed around him and Qui-Gon glanced up in surprise, eyes widening as he recognized the red form of Secon II – Iian Terlius' ship.

He caught the searching wave of the Force and sent it back, digging his foot into the soft skin of the Sith's stomach as he removed his blade, before reaching into his belt and digging out a pair of magnetic cuffs. Seconds later and he had Terlius secured and yanked her to her feet. To his right Obi-Wan had lifted a half frozen Xi easily to his feet.

The Secon hovered before them and Qui-Gon leapt easily into the open cargo bay, ignoring the shocked look on Iian's face as he moved towards the small detainee capsule. He secured Terlius before slamming the capsule door shut. A moment later and Terlius was asleep, suspended until they reached Coruscant. He turned and nearly ran into Iian, not that the younger Jeri would have noticed. He was staring at his sister's face, pale, and looking rather disgruntled.

Qui-Gon stepped into Iian's line of sight, staring the other Jedi down. "Can you handle this, Iian?" It spoke volumes of what he thought of the Iillam that when he nodded, Qui-Gon believed him. "You knew she was alive."

Iian looked away, shame echoing off of him in waves. "Qui-Gon, I-"

"We'll talk about this later. Just get us home." Qui-Gon turned from the other Jedi, his attention returning to his pale padawan and the half frozen Geaugan teen. They could easily arrange for Xi to return home at another date. He sunk into a seat across from his padawan, observing the two teens as he brought a hand up to rub at the growing sourness in his left shoulder.

He was getting entirely too old for this sort of nonsense.


	17. Homecoming

Obi-Wan watched the skyline of Coruscant in rapt attention, aware and uncaring that he in turn was being carefully observed. His face was void of emotion, his mental shields firmly raised but Obi-Wan knew he wasn't fooling anyone. He knew they could see the tension in the way he held himself. Saw that his hands gripped the back of the cockpit chair a little too tightly. Heard that he held his breath a little too long each time. Obi-Wan could hear the sound of his own heart thundering in his ears, feel it as it quickened needlessly in his chest as they neared the Temple District.

He knew he was causing alarm to Garen; his friend hadn't taken his eyes off of him since he'd joined them in the cockpit. He could feel the heavy gaze of his Master behind him and saw the curious one of Iian from his peripheral.

His eyes searched the afternoon sky for any signs of fire – even though Obi-Wan knew there would be none. But still, he could not control the sigh of relief that left him as the first reaching arms of the Spires came into view. The Tranquil Spire greeted him first, towering over the cityscape around it. As they inched their way through the traffic lanes, the other four spires crept into view and then the Ziggurat itself. Obi-Wan drank in the sight of his Temple, unharmed.

The Force washed over him as they drew even nearer to the Temple, imprinting upon him the feel of thousands of Jedi Masters and Knights and students living and working within. The vibrancy brought tears to his eyes and Obi-Wan brought a hand up to wipe at his mouth as he fought to put control his emotions. Still, it took every ounce of his strength to find his composure once more.

Obi-Wan had never thought he'd have a homecoming like this again.

Iian expertly maneuvered the Secon II onto a small landing space that jutted out of the western side of the Ziggurat. There was a small group of Jedi waiting for them and even though he couldn't see them as he made his way through the ship, Obi-Wan immediately recognized the presence of Masters Yoda and Windu, along with Bant Eerin and that of… Kit Fisto?

Obi-Wan froze in his tracks, staring down the ramp as Qui-Gon and Iian walked down ahead of him. What in the name of the Force was Kit Fisto doing here? It was far too early for the young Nautolan to be on the High Council – Kit wasn't even a Master yet.

It wasn't that Obi-Wan disliked Fisto or feared his presence. Kit had served as a General in the Clone Wars and the two had worked together extensively. The ordeal that was Ord Cestus and Asajj Ventress had sealed the friendship between the Nautolan and himself forever. When Kit had fallen at the hands of Sidious, Obi-Wan was close enough to him to feel his pain.

It was just that in order for Kit to be there, it had to mean that he was already Bant's Master. And while that had happened the first time around as well, it only took place after Master Tahl's death at New Apsolon. For her to be dead already…had Qui-Gon not gone to rescue Tahl from Melida/Daan? Had he been too busy searching for Obi-Wan? What else had changed due to his actions?

"Obi-Wan?" Xi's hesitant voice jarred him back into motion. "Should I come down with you?"

The teenager was a nervous wreck, even though the Council had granted him temporary quarters in the Temple. The Geaugan had a high level of anxiety about meeting the Jedi, which was some what to be expected with the lies his planet's government included in basic schooling. He gave his worried friend a small smile and took the final few steps down the ramp. Almost immediately the wind surrounded him with the smell of Coruscant and Obi-wan inhaled deeply, eyes half lidded as he looked out over the city. His eyes sought out the bulky form of the Senate, barely visible on the horizon.

… _I wonder if he's on planet._

The sound of heavy footfalls brought his wandering attention back once more and Obi-Wan looked up to see Bant crossing the small landing. Next to him, Xi made a sputtering sound at the site of such a foreign alien and deftly placed Garen between himself and Obi-Wan. The Mon Calamari had grown taller but still only came up to his chest. Her salmon colored skin was flushed as she stared up at him. Next to him Garen stiffened, starting forward to stop her even as Obi-Wan's firm grip pulled him back.

The sound of the smack echoed against the tall walls of the Temple, the webbed hand carrying enough force for the taller teen to stumble backwards. Obi-Wan brought a hand up to rub at his stinging face. Next to him Garen was standing aghast, staring at their usually docile friend in shock.

In front of him, Bant was staring to quiver.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are so stupid!" And with that the Mon Calamari fled the platform with a startled Kit giving chase.

Obi-Wan watched their retreating forms, eyes full of regret. "I suppose I deserved that."

"You bet your ass you did." Garen mumbled under his breath before making his way to stand next to Iian, leading a started Xi by the arm. Obi-Wan felt the tips of his lips turn up in a small smile only to have it fall away as he turned to face the remaining Masters.

Master Windu's appointment to a senior Council Member seemed to have made the tall man even sterner, not that Obi-Wan was surprised by this. Few saw the side of Mace that he had once been privy to. The Master's dark eyes swept over him in evaluation.

"And so the wayward son returns. It has been a long time, Kenobi."

Obi-Wan didn't miss the lack of a title associated with his name and from the way that Qui-Gon's head snapped up to look at him, neither had his Master. Though his Master may be surprised, he most certainly wasn't. He knew that returning to the Temple meant that every action he had taken over the last three years would have to be explained – and well – or else he faced expulsion at the very least.

If he was lucky enough to convince them – and Obi-Wan still did not know what to tell the Council or how to even start – then he would be allowed the title of 'Padawan.' Next to him, Qui-Gon pursed his lips together but to his thankful surprise, stayed silent.

Obi-Wan bowed to the two Masters, "It is good to return home, Master Windu. Grand Master Yoda." The small green Master was watching him through silted eyes and Obi-Wan avoided his gaze all together, far too afraid of what the aged Master would see. "May I introduce Fuan Yu Xi, a Geaugan who treated my injuries when I was wounded. You have granted him political asylum –

"We are familiar with Fuan Yu's case," Master Windu interrupted, eyeing the nervous teen. "Having reviewed it only this morning."

Obi-Wan ignored the slight, folding his arms and tucking his hands into his sleeves. "I have also brought you Iianna Terlius, former Jedi initiate and Sith."

Mace's response was immediate. "Whether or not she is indeed a Sith has yet to be seen, Kenobi. This is not the place nor the forum to discuss this, you will have to a chance to explain your actions during your hearing."

"Hearing?" Qui-Gon's voice was sharp. "I hardly think it is necessary to open a formal case -"

"The case has not yet been made formal and will not be unless the Council decides that Obi-Wan's actions have been harmful to the Order and himself. The boy needs to explain where and what he has been doing for the last three years." Qui-Gon's jaw set and Obi-Wan gathered his thoughts and sent them through the training bond.

_Calm down, Master. They will find in my favor._

He sent it with more confidence then he felt, but still, he was relieved when his Master nodded slowly, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. When he spoke next, it was with a calm confidence Obi-Wan envied. "I suppose the Council is being lenient in allowing Obi-Wan to remain with me in my quarters rather than the Detention Level."

Obi-Wan held back an exhausted sigh. _So much for that hope that he'd handle this reasonably._

Windu echoed his muted sigh, bringing a hand up to rub his forehead in annoyance. "Don't make this any more difficult than it already is, Qui-Gon. The Council will meet tomorrow afternoon. You'll find a summons on your comm."

"And Xi?" Obi-Wan asked, gesturing to the still petrified boy.

"Padawan Muln will accompany him to his quarters."

"I take it we are dismissed then?" Qui-Gon asked coldly, leaving before they'd even received and answer. His master's grip on his arm was vice-like, dragging Obi-Wan behind him.

"That was rude, Master." He chided once they were safely inside the privacy of the lift, carefully freeing his arm from Qui-Gon's grip. Next to him his Master snorted but said nothing else, glaring at doors in front of him as if they were Mace himself. Obi-Wan sighed tiredly and brought his hands up to rub at the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a problem if he didn't address it quickly.

"Did you truly expect something different, Qui-Gon?" The use of his first name seemed to catch the older Jedi's attention completely. "Perhaps for me to be welcomed home with open arms? That they would just accept me back into the fold on with no questions asked?"

"Of course I was expecting some sort of investigation." His voice was harsh, his words clipped. Obi-Wan had offended him, he knew, Qui-Gon hated being talked down to. He would only be more displeased by the time Obi-Wan finished. But these words needed to be said. "A formal hearing is taking it too far."

"And you plan to tell them as much, don't you?"

Silence met his question, then; "You must learn when to stand up for yourself, Obi-Wan. They may be council-members but they are also merely men and women, capable of mistakes."

 _How many times have I heard that explanation?_ Obi-Wan thought as he bit down a bitter smile. His master used that explanation far too often when defending his outbursts against the Council. It only ever made things worse. But he wasn't wrong either. But this time he was – and Obi-Wan had to make him step back far enough to see it.

"Is it? Is it really?" Obi-Wan pushed, turning to face his mentor. "I wasn't kidnapped, no matter how you get Iian and Garen to spin the tale. _I left_ the Order, Qui-Gon, willingly. I went rogue and killed. Anything short of a hearing and I'd think the Council had lost their reasoning completely."

"This is different," Qui-Gon insisted sharply, "You are not a threat to the Order. Those killings were necessary."

"Since when has the word of one Jedi – one so involved no less – ever held much weight? Why should you be any different?" His stubborn master frowned, tucking his hands into his robe as the lift opened in front of them. There was a heavy silence as they walked down the hallway, palpable enough to startle a passing Knight from her holo-pad readings. They both ignored her, Qui-Gon out of irritation and Obi-Wan out of thought. He searched every memory he had for the proper way to phrase what he needed and when they stepped into the privacy of their apartment, he tried again.

When he spoke next, his words were imbued with every inch of confidence and authority he could muster. "You asked me to come here and I agreed, against my better judgment may I add. I was fully aware of the type of reception I would be coming home to. I expected the Council to act so – and if you search your feelings you will know that it is completely justified."

"The Council-" Qui-Gon began, only to fall silent as he raised hand.

"Their names may be different but the politics will not have changed. I face a nearly impossible task; I must convince them that not only am I not a threat but also their only salvation. I have an advantage here – I was a Councilmember myself once. I know the inner workings of Temple politics better than they could ever even begin to imagine, just as I know many of them." He reached up and rested a gentle hand on the Jedi Master's forearm. "I know you wish to protect me and you have no idea how much I value that. But it is not your help I need in this, but your absence. I know this is difficult for you; you've never been a follower in your life. But please, Qui-Gon, follow my lead."

His master stared down silently at him for a moment, before dropping his eyes to the carpet. It was the closest to an act of submission he would most likely get. Obi-Wan took it graciously, stepping away from his Master and towards the living room of the apartment.

"So," He asked, throwing a lopsided grin over his shoulder, "Which room's mine?"

* * *

The apartment was different from the one they'd had in the past, though Obi-Wan supposed he wasn't to surprise by the change. Qui-Gon had requested it at a different time. Still, it mirrored in layout the old one and if he allowed himself to, Obi-Wan could image the old one atop of it. A stain on the carpet there, a chess set made from Granitlon Marble on the coffee table. A series of large ferns surrounding the small dining table. He knew if he went through the door to his right he find a short hallway with doors to a narrow bedroom and an even tinier fresher.

The familiar pain in his heart blossomed once more and without through Obi-Wan brought his hand up to rub at his chest as he made his way towards his quarters. The bedroom layout was how he remembered it but in reverse and he pulled his robe off and draped it over the bed.

"I'm making some tea, would you like some?" Qui-Gon asked from the doorway and Obi-Wan nodded mutely, following the taller man back into the living quarters. There was an awkward air around them – their last conversation still hung heavily around them. He appreciated Qui-Gon's efforts to relieve it. "Is it strange being back in the Temple?"

Obi-Wan shrugged as he took a seat on the plush sofa. "It is a relief and yet at the same time not." He admitted truthfully after a moment. "I longed to come home so often, there were days when I thought for sure I'd never know the Temple's comforts again. Yet now that I'm here I find a part of me wishes I hadn't returned. There is much I have to do here. I almost don't know where to start."

"You sounded quite confident in your abilities just a few minutes ago." Qui-Gon said with a snort as he offered a tea cup. Obi-Wan took it and shook his head, watching as his Master sunk into one of the chairs opposite of him. "For a moment, I could see the man you once were. The man you will become again."

Obi-Wan glanced up from stirring his tea in surprise. "I do not wish to have this conversation again, Master Jinn."

The coolness of the title didn't seem to deter his Master at all. "And yet we will still have it. This abhorrence of yourself and personal judgment must stop. It is incredibly unhealthy. I wish you would show that side of yourself more often – even if it is to argue with me."

He brought a hand up to rub at the burning sensation that was slowly creeping across his heart, taking another sip of his tea has he fought to control his irritation. "Master, this is hardly the time."

"On the contrary, I think this is the perfect time." Qui-Gon corrected calmly. "There are many things we must still speak on."

He wasn't sure he liked where this was going. He was in little mood to discuss the past and even less willing to explain himself. "Such as?"

The older Master calmly set his cup down and reached out, capturing his still moving hand. "What's wrong with your heart, perhaps?"

* * *

Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan retreated completely from him. They were sitting on a scant few feet from each other, but the distance between them couldn't be greater. His padawan's face was blank, his hands resting atop of his knees. The young Jedi was the picture of calm restraint, though he knew it was not true. He was – abet slowly – gaining more and more perspective about the young man that was his padawan. As he watched Obi-Wan smoothly change the subject to their plan of approach for the hearing, Qui-Gon repeated the vow he had made on Geauga. He would restore Obi-Wan to the man he once was – even if he had to fight the young man every step of the way.

"- tion, however I believe that will be a last resort on their part. Still-"

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon interrupted, "Have you seen a doctor?" The younger Jedi said nothing. "If something is wrong with your heart, you must see to it."

"Nothing is wrong with it." Obi-Wan said sharply. Qui-Gon frowned, eyes narrowing at the tone. Seeing his displeasure his padawan sighed, bringing his hand up to fiddle with the criss-cross of his upper robes. "Physically, I mean. I've been seen by two different physicians, as well as a specialist. None of the tests revealed anything."

"Perhaps it would be better if you started at the beginning, Padawan." There was an order in there and Qui-Gon knew it, but to his surprise the younger Jedi submitted without a fight.

"It began almost the moment I woke up here. Do you remember when I threw up in the main hall? It was years ago." Qui-Gon nodded. It had been the first time they had met. Qui-Gon had reviewed the moment many during his search, cursing himself for not noticing the something wasn't right then. "Nausea used to accompany it, it still does but I suppose I've gotten used to it. It's…a burning sensation. Which makes sense, I suppose."

Even if that last statement hadn't rung with bitterness, the ache that accompanied it through the bond would have told Qui-Gon he'd unearthed an old wound. For a moment he hesitated, knowing his next question would bring up even emotion distress for the fragile man in front of him. But it was something he needed to know if he was going to find a way to fix it.

"How so?"

"You remember how I died?"

Qui-Gon leaned back in his seat, mouth dry. A burning pain where he'd been struck down. How could he not have made the connection? He brought a hand up to wipe at his mouth, silently furious with himself. There was no way it could have been a coincidence, even if Qui-Gon believed in such things.

"I don't know…" In front of him, Obi-Wan sat unmoving, staring down at his fold hands blankly. "I don't know why our even how it's possible, but whenever I find myself thinking about the past, my past, I feel it. I don't even remember it – not the pain anyway. But still…"

The young man trailed off, his brows furled in confusion. He would have to see a mind healer, Qui-Gon knew the younger man would be incredibly against doing so. It was clear that this phantom pain was connected to his painful past. How they were going to find a healer that was willing to accept their story enough to treat Obi-Wan for it though was something else entirety. Qui-Gon would be lucky if the mind healer didn't recommend complete institutionalism once they'd heard Obi-Wan's story. Such a thing would be nearly impossible for him to protect his padawan from. The Council would surely act…but this was beyond him, Qui-Gon was sure of it. Mind arts had never been his forte and for something such as this?

"You will have to see a mind healer." Qui-Gon announced. The reaction was instant.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Obi-Wan snapped. "They'd lock me up in an instant."

"You think I have not considered that?" He shot back, "Neither one of us are equipped to handle this type of problem."

Obi-Wan stood and abruptly began to pace. "I will not see a mind healer. I will not consent to this." He stopped pacing. "I can't risk being locked up. Why does this even need to be addressed? I lived just fine with it so far." Obi-Wan asked, suddenly looking every inch the defiant teenager he was.

"Treatment is not open for debate, Padawan." His tone was icy and it seemed the younger man knew better than to push the subject and rather then risk it, changed his angle of attack.

"We can fix this."

"I do not believe we can manage such a thorough inspection of your mental landscape. A mind healer will be able to guide you through your past – help you to find what it is that is making you be in pain."

"Master, _please_."

Qui-Gon felt his will flounder at the sight and sound of such a desperate plea. "It would involve hours of tedious mediation, joint and otherwise – and you will have to allow me uninterrupted access to your mind."

It was clear that Obi-Wan was just as displeased with this solution – but he conceded none-the-less. "Not today."

"No, not today. Both of us are far too tired to begin." Qui-Gon stood, "We both should try and get some sleep, it is already quite late here." He watched his apprentice as he gathered his tea and made his way towards his room.

"Obi-Wan," His padawan turned to look wearily at him. Qui-Gon allowed the Force to fill the space between them, unmoving and ultimate in his conviction. Obi-Wan may argue with him, but on this he would not be swayed. He would remind his padawan, forcibly if need be, that he was not the only capable of bending others to his will. "If we fail, you will be seeing a mind healer."

To his surprise, the younger Jedi only nodded dejectedly before exiting the room, the door hissing almost deafening behind him. With a groan Qui-Gon sunk back into his favorite chair. It would be a long partnership, indeed, if the two of them were always bumping heads so.

But regardless, it felt wonderful to have that room finally filled.

* * *


	18. Old Friends

It was from his spot on the floor in his new room that Obi-Wan had a particularly worrisome realization. He'd relocated to the space between his bed and desk after an hour or two of restless turning on his new, plush mattress. Obi-Wan's back was just not used to it after years of sleeping on hard surfaces. But still, even as he made himself comfortable on the floor, sleep did not visit him.

For a while, Obi-Wan just basked in the feeling of the Force humming around him, but eventually boredom drove him to thinking over the day's events, particularly his arrival home. In it was then that Obi-Wan had the worrisome realization. He hadn't heard Master Yoda speak once during the encounter. Disturbed, Obi-Wan sat up and thought hard as he replayed the entire conversation more carefully in his head. The little Master hadn't said one word to him, and Obi-Wan, who had been too distracted by the need to handle both Mace and Qui-Gon at once hadn't even noticed.

That…couldn't be good.

Nervous now, Obi-Wan began to pace his room, running a hand through his hair in a repeating, absent-minded motion as he tried to think of why the ancient Master hadn't spoken. He had been there; Obi-Wan knew that. There was no mistaking the Grand Master's presence. So why hadn't Yoda spoken to him? It was completely out of character.

_Because he was observing._

The realization struck him hard enough to pause his furious pacing. Obi-Wan cursed loudly, bringing a hand up to rub at his face wearily. _How could I be so stupid?_ Of course, Yoda had been observing the situation. And Force knows just what the little Master had seen, but Obi-Wan wasn't stupid enough to dismiss the possibility that it may have been far more than he had ever wanted. _Most likely more than enough to render my efforts to manipulate anyone here completely futile._

Again, Obi-Wan cursed himself. Why wasn't he paying more attention? How could he possibly forget to pay attention to Master Yoda? But that had been the purpose of the Master's silence, the Jedi knew, so that others would forget that he was there. Despite the oddity of his appearance and the massive Force signature the old Jedi had, if the Master wished it, he could simply will those around him to overlook his presence. How many times had Obi-Wan seen the Grand Master do so in the past? That Yoda had thought such actions necessary with him, though, filled Obi-Wan with unease.

The thought that the master felt the need for such actions was just as saddening as it was terrifying. Yoda had been a rock of wisdom and courage throughout his life – to lose that favor was something that Obi-Wan didn't know if he could handle. But to have Yoda as an enemy, that was something he knew he couldn't.

He'd have to step very carefully now.

Obi-Wan's feet made no noise as they crossed the carpeted living room. He sent one look to the closed door of his Master's bedroom before lifting his hood up and palming the door open. The hallway was dimly lit, the blue light set on low to reflect the late hour.

Leaving their quarters was an amazingly stupid idea, Obi-Wan knew, especially since he was basically on probation. But the revelations of the last half hour had left his mind racing. He needed to think, to plan, and walking had always helped with that. Pacing the small confines of his room had done little to help the frustrated Jedi and so Obi-Wan found himself in the abandoned halls, hands buried in his robe sleeves as he thought hard.

Yoda was not someone he wanted as an enemy. No, if Obi-Wan were going to have any kind of a chance in convincing the Council, then he would need the Grand Master on his side. And that meant going to speak with him before the hearing. The hearing was scheduled to take place four days from now and that didn't leave Obi-Wan with much time to try to come up with a plan that would make Yoda or the Council believe him. Telling them he was from the future was not an option – look at how well Qui-Gon had taken that. The older Jedi had been inside his mind and was still struggling to accept Obi-Wan's explanation.

That left the Jedi with very few options as to explain how he'd come across knowledge of the Sith's actions. And then there were those he had killed. Obi-Wan had not spent his years solely hiding away and training. Even if he did manage to convince the Council of the Sith threat, there was still the fact that Obi-Wan had killed many, many people. He knew Qui-Gon suspected what Obi-Wan had been up to those years he was away but he doubted his Master knew how many had fallen to his blade.

He was not particularly proud of the number himself.

Obi-Wan had painstakingly hunted down as many of the Dark Acolytes as he could find. Some, like the Chiss Ser'rance Tann, had yet to make their presence known in the galaxy and unable to find them, Obi-Wan had simply moved on to the next one he remembered. Most he did not mind eliminating. Many where already living lives that hinted at what they would become. Slavers, drug lords, assassins. They had not been hard for Obi-Wan to kill. Others had not been so easy.

Perhaps the hardest kill for Obi-Wan had been that of Savage Opress. The male Zabrak had been a brutal beast during the Clone Wars, handpicked by Asajj Ventress herself. Yet when Obi-Wan had struck him down, the Zabrak had been nothing more than a proud clansman, asleep in his bed with his wife. Obi-Wan hadn't been willing to after Ventress quite yet. He had planned to take another year or so of training before taking challenging her. Now that he was confined once more to the will of the Order, the Obi-Wan wished he had. If Ventress was given the years necessary to develop the physical strength she needed to back up her saber play she'd be incredibly difficult to take down.

That went for Darth Maul as well. Obi-Wan had intended to kill the skilled Zabrak while he was still young but no matter how hard he looked, the he couldn't find traces of the Sith apprentice anywhere. To add even more frustration Obi-Wan was positive that Dooku had already been taken up the mantle of Darth Tyranus, as well as acquired Grievous, but he'd found no proof. Unwilling to risk putting himself so close to such a powerful Force user, Obi-Wan had not been able to feel out the elusive man. But it was probably for the best, his death would not be one the Jedi ignored.

Dooku was one of the Lost Twenty, members of the Jedi Order who had left voluntarily to continue their lives as civilians. Despite this, the man had extensive contacts within the Order and a violent death would have brought unwanted attention on him. Similarly, Obi-Wan had not touched the Jedi who would eventually fall. There were five that would go on to become Dark Acolytes and many, many more who would fold under the dark influence that ruled the Clone Wars.

 _So much blood on my hands_. Obi-Wan had come to accept that he would have to do terrible, but necessary, things to keep those he loved safe. To keep the future from repeating itself. And until Geauga and Iianna Terlius, he'd never doubted his actions.

_"Can't you see what's happening? If you kill her now, it would be murder! You cannot kill her out of fear! Can't you see where that will lead you?"_

Qui-Gon's words had terrified him. They still did. Would Savage have kept living the life of a clansman if Obi-Wan had simply killed Ventress? How many had Obi-Wan killed out of fear of what they might have become? How often had he allowed himself to fall victim to its icy grip? What did that mean about him as a Jedi? No, what did that mean about Obi-Wan as a person?

"Padawan Kenobi?" The half-muttered question brought Obi-Wan out of his musing violently and the Jedi blinked in barely contained alarm as he realized he was standing only a few feet away from a very confused Kit Fisto. The Nautolan Jedi was shirtless, clad only in a pair of soaked pants, head cocked to the side in confusion as he stared down at the shorter human.

For his part, Obi-Wan was equally puzzled at his own presence. It seemed that in his inattention to his wanderings, Obi-Wan had made his way to one of the more isolated sections of the Lake Level. Bant had shown it to him first and then later Kit had as well. They had used it as private forum to get drunk away from their nosey padawan learners.

_When was I on a lift? And how the blazes did I not notice it?  
_

"I really don't think you should be out of your room." Kit said as he made clean, graceful strides to where he'd left his shirt.

"Probably not," Obi-Wan managed after a moment, "but I couldn't sleep."

The Knight sent him an amused look. "So you came to the Lake Level in the middle of the night? A little unusual for a human. Unless you've got a pair of gills somewhere that I don't know about. Never can tell with you humans, you mutate like Koritan frogs."

Obi-Wan couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him at that.

"No, I'm quite mutation free thanks." He had missed his old friend much more than he had realized. Not everyone got the Nautolan's caustic sense of humor but Kit had been incredibly well liked among the Order. Obi-Wan shed his cloak, toeing off his boots and socks before wading calf deep into the cool lake water. Aware that the older Jedi was still waiting for an explanation Obi-Wan provided one. "Bant showed me this place a couple of times. I like it down here, it's peaceful."

"That it is." Kit agreed. Obi-Wan could feel the Knight's studying gaze and mentally chewed himself out for not paying attention to where he had been going. "About what happened on the landing platform, Bant's quite torn up about it."

Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder in surprise. Honestly, he hadn't given the slap much of a second thought.

"She shouldn't be. I don't blame her for it. Bant's one of the few people who knows that I willingly left the Order." Which implied she'd also knew he'd willingly left her behind. "She's always worried about me, like a big sister, ever since we were in the Crèche together. I cannot blame her for her anger."

Or Garen for his. Obi-Wan had done a great injustice to his friends; he wouldn't pretend that he hadn't.

His answer seemed to please the older Jedi and Kit made his way over to join him. From this position, Obi-Wan could easily smell the contents of the drink. Sighing, he brought a hand up to run through his hair in frustration. He too would rather enjoy a drink at the moment.

* * *

Kit watched the boy discreetly as he sipped his drink. It was strange to see Obi-Wan Kenobi in the flesh. Most of the Temple had been told that the young human had been kidnapped on his way to an assignment with Master Jinn. Being the Master of Bant Eerin had earned Kit the true story.

He'd grown incredibly fond of the pink Mon Calamari. The girl was honest and sharp and the two had bonded over the death of her previous Master, Tahl. Kit had been assigned to go and rescue the Noorian when she'd gone missing on Melida/Daan. Against his better judgment, Kit had not found it in his heart to deny the eager padawan a chance to find her errant Master. He'd regret that decision a week later when he'd had to witness the young Mon Calamari's devastation upon finding her Master dead.

The pairing had taken longer than it probably should have to take root, Kit had only been Knighted for half a year, and he still felt incredibly guilty in being unable to save the girl's Master. But the Force was insistent and when others had shown interest in Bant, Kit had finally gotten over himself and invited her to become his padawan. The Mon Calamari had promptly broken down in tears and told him that she hadn't really wanted anyone else but him, either.

How the hell was he supposed to stand up against that kind of cuteness?

Bant Eerin had pretty much taken over his life at this point, which Kit didn't really mind. He enjoyed the company on his missions. And undoubtedly, that meant that Obi-Wan Kenobi had also taken a forefront in his life. Bant spoke of him affectionately and though she didn't think Kit noticed, she always looked for him when they were on missions. Many times he had held counsel with Iian Terlius, both equally distressed at the fact that their padawans were still so devoted to finding a boy that was most likely dead.

The fact that this boy also had Qui-Gon Jinn searching frantically for him for three years only stoked Kit's curiosity. He couldn't help but wonder just who this Kenobi was, and how he managed to gain such a strong hold over such an independent Jedi.

And then Iian had found him.

Bant had scared the crap out of him when she'd heard the news from Garen. The Mon Calamari had sat, unmoving, at their kitchen table for two and half hours. Obi-Wan's leaving had wounded his padawan almost as much as the death of her first Master and frankly, Kit wanted to know if this kid was even remotely worth it.

He'd been swimming, plotting a way to get the human boy alone so he could grill him when low and behold – Kenobi comes waltzing into the Lake Level looking completely out of it. Kit had stared at the boy for a full few minutes before finally alerting the padawan to his presence. The look of stunned surprise on Kenobi's face when he finally checked back in had been both funny and worrisome.

_If this human brat is crazy he's not going anywhere near my padawan._

Kit didn't really like humans. It wasn't like he was against them as a species or anything, it was just they tended to be very single minded, selfish in a way that came from races that never had the school/pack mentality. And they were incredibly easy to hurt physically. Kit always felt like he needed to watch out for his frail human companions on missions, even with the Force at their call.

So yes, he was all set to not like the crazy-human-brat-who-had-broken-his-padawan's-heart-for-no-good-reason when the boy had to go and say something to make Kit respect him.

And now the Nautolan had decided to give Kenobi another chance before writing him off as yet another selfish human. But Kit still wanted answers.

"So," He drawled out slowly, taking time to move slightly closer to the boy in case he should decide to bolt, "Why did you take off?"

"You're not supposed to ask about that." Kenobi said crossly, shooting a rather impressive glare for a sixteen year old his way. "The case is still under review."

Kit snorted. "And you're not supposed to be out of your quarters. Looks like we both suck at following the rules."

His words seemed to trouble the teenager more then he meant them to, and Kenobi's shoulders slumped slightly. Kit watched, silently puzzled, as a look of abject confusion stole across the young padawan's face before disappearing behind a deceptively calm façade.

But Kit was a Nautolan, fully equipped with head-tresses that allowed him to pick up pheromones. It was part of how his people communicated and having lived and worked among so many different species he'd become adept at sensing what someone was feeling, regardless of their race.

"I never wanted to hurt Bant, or Garen, or anyone else." Kenobi said softly after a moment. "I knew leaving would hurt her, them, badly."

"Yet you did." Kit pointed out, though not unkindly. The emotions that he was picking up off the young Jedi were incredibly intense. There was a healthy amount of guilt considering the subject and perhaps a touch too much nervousness (though Kit was interrogating the poor kid so it was to be expected) and there had been a fair amount of annoyance at the beginning of the conversation but that seemed to be mostly gone now.

"I know." Obi-Wan answered after a long moment, eyes dark with emotion as he stared out over the lake. "At the time it seemed like my only option. I…saw something that I thought I could prevent."

It wasn't really an answer to the question but the Nautolan didn't press him on it. Instead, the Knight simply sipped his drink and joined the young human in looking out over the lake.

"The galaxy is a dark, messed up place." Kit said slowly after a moment, still trying to pick apart the mass of emotions he was sensing. "I'm surprised you survived as long as you did. You humans are very soft _._ "

"At least I don't have to carry a mister around with me." Kenobi winced almost as soon as the barb left his mouth, obviously realizing too late it was far too rude a response to be giving a Knight, but Kit only chuckled.

He tipped his cup in a small salute. "Touché. But I'll have you know that we Nautolan's do quite well outside of water. The mister's just a pleasantry."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry if I offended you."

Kit scoffed. _Suddenly the boy's demure, please._ "Don't apologize; you're only what, four years younger than me? You make me feel old."

"Something like that." Kenobi said softly, giving him a small, almost pained looking smile. Kit frowned, the amount of raw grief that seemed to be associated with the statement catching him off guard. The Nautolan played the question and answer out again in his mind, but the older Jedi couldn't seem to find what could have possibly brought out such a reaction.

Next to him, Kenobi winced and brought a hand up to rub at the side of his temple. Concerned, Kit placed a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder. Kenobi had apparently been recently blown up, if Bant's frantic worrying a few weeks back was true, and Kit didn't want the padawan collapsing on his watch. _Particularly not Jinn's padawan._

"You alright?"

Kenobi nodded, sending the Knight a grateful smile that was accompanied with a wave genuine happiness at, apparently, Kit's caring question that once again, caught him off guard.

"Yes, my Master's just realized I'm not in bed."

Kit stepped away from the boy so fast he tripped and dropped his cup. "You didn't tell Jinn you were going out?"

"You really think he'd let me out here?" Kenobi asked dryly and Kit shook his head again.

"I just thought you lied and told him something, not that you didn't tell him at all. The man's been searching for you for almost three years. How did this not occur to you as a bad idea?"

What was the boy thinking? Qui-Gon would be on the warpath and _crap, I'm in the middle of it._

The boy just shrugged, as if he wasn't about to be disemboweled by one of the most intimidating Jedi of their times. Kit shook his head and gestured violently towards the lift doors.

"Get back there – and for forces sake don't mention my name!"

The smile Kenobi threw him as he stepped into the lift was downright cheeky. "What? Afraid of a weak little human, Knight Fisto?"

And then the doors shut, leaving a thoroughly amused Jedi Knight behind him. Kit shook his head, leaning down to fish his cup out of the lake with a smile of disbelief. He emptied the lake water from it and glanced back at the empty lift, his smile slowly fading away.

Kenobi was a seriously messed up kid. This was a problem, because his padawan was quite attached to him. And despite his best efforts, Kit kinda liked the stupid brat too.


	19. And We Will Talk, Part 1

Obi-Wan stared at the glowing _Level I, Floor 20_ that was highlighted on the lift control screen in confusion. He had meant to send the lift up to the main elevator atrium where he could switch over and catch one that would take him back towards the residential wing of the Temple. Yet, his fingers had instead directed the lift to go down, not up, sinking even lower than the lake level.

For a brief second, the Jedi debated about fixing the lift orders but dismissed the thought almost as soon as it had formed. Something, not as direct as a Force call or as discreet as a Force manipulation, was pushing him towards the very innards of the Temple Ziggurat. Curiosity – and perhaps too healthy of a want to avoid Qui-Gon's irritated lecture – stilled his fingers from the control.

The lift traveled deeper, passing into the unused lower levels of the Temple. When the lift finally came to stop, it was in the oldest part of the Ziggurat. Obi-Wan gave the ancient stone walls around him a quick once over as he stepped from the lift. He could not help but be slightly awed by the age of the carvings on them – some parts of the Temple down here were over four thousand years old.

Obi-Wan had only been down here two other times; right before and after his Knighting. But he'd never been down so far, nor unattended and free to explore. Despite the intention to do just that, the Jedi was not unaware of the fact that each step he took was being guided by an outside force.

The brunette weaved easily through the dark tunnels, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe in a vain effort to ward off the chill that permeated the lower levels. It only took him a handful of minutes to reach his destination.

As he rounded a corner, the hallway abruptly widened into a domed room, eerily lit by auxiliary lights that cast the ancient hall in a soft, orange light. He crossed a set of ancient stone bridges, pausing only to look at the decorative stone pavers that had been salvaged from the destroyed Temple on Ossus before descending the final set of stairs.

It bottomed out into a meditation enclave that predated the Temple.

Obi-Wan felt his breath catch as he stepped fully down into the enclave. He had always known that the Temple had been built on a strong Force Nexus, before he'd ever had what it was explained to him Obi-Wan had felt it. It was impossible for any Force sensitive not to.

But this…

The Force hummed so loudly it seemed to vibrate in his teeth. This was a holy place to all Jedi, carved into the heart of the scared mountain the Temple had been built around. The air here was heavy with the weight of those who came before and Obi-Wan breathed deeply, closing his eyes as he tried to envision the Jedi of the past and what they might do in his place. The domed hall was large, the sides so far from the center that they actually disappeared into the darkness.

The dome itself was painted in a relief that told of the ancient Jedi's rise to power and exploration of space, as well as the founding of the Coruscant Temple itself. There were more stories painted upon it, but they faded into darkness as they stretched too far for Obi-Wan see. Directly below the center of the room was a large rock carved into the shape of a triangle. It was made from some sort of geode and the crystals pulsed in time with the hum in his teeth. With a jolt of surprise Obi-Wan realized where he was.

"The Hearthstone." The Jedi murmured in quiet awe, blue-grey eyes wide as he took a few hesitant steps towards it. The Hearthstone was the very center of the Temple Ziggurat, a carved piece from the Jedi home world that rumored to pre-exist even the Jedi themselves. The stone worked as a focus, and placed next to a nexus allowed those who were near it to channel the Force in ways no normal living creature could.

Obi-Wan had heard of it, but never seen it before. Access to it was restricted down to only the Grand Masters of the Order – which begged the question of just how Obi-Wan had managed to walk into its resting place unchallenged.

His better sense told him he should leave – and the young Jedi was more than willing to listen to it but he couldn't seem to stop staring at the pulsating stone. It was the most…beautiful and enticing thing Obi-Wan had ever seen. He wondered what it felt like. What would happen if he touched it. He reached out, his hand looking pale and worn against its brilliance and froze.

_When did I get so close?_

At some point he'd cleared the entirety of the hall, resting a scant few feet from the Hearthstone. With a show of herculean will, Obi-Wan pulled his hand away and forced himself to take a few unsteady steps backwards.

"Come here, I knew you would." The sound of Master Yoda's voice made him jump and Obi-Wan swung around, wide eyed, to find the Jedi Master sitting on one of the stone benches that formed a circle around the Hearthstone.

"Master Yoda, you surprised me." Obi-Wan was beside himself. How had he not known the Master was there?

"Not a Grand Master I would be, if sneak up on young Jedi I could not." He thumped the ground in front of him with his glimmer stick and Obi-Wan sat obediently. "But…not so young, you are."

Obi-Wan's head snapped up to stare at the Master and for a moment he could swear his heart stopped all together. His new position put him at eye level with the Master and Obi-Wan quickly glanced away from the prying eyes.

"A cruel place, the World is. Dark things, you have seen." Obi-Wan felt his heart start once more. "Much we have to speak of, you and I. Yet come to me, you did not."

"Is that why you called me here, Master? To speak?" The younger Jedi forced his voice to remain even, his features calm as he stared at the ancient Grand Master. He had known that this was going to happen at some point – but he was at a complete loss to how to even begin this conversation. The small Jedi let out a hum, his ears twitching ever so slightly before he turned to stare over Obi-Wan to the Hearthstone.

"Call you here, I did not." The silence stretched as Obi-Wan absorbed that. If Master Yoda hadn't brought him here, then why – "Aware are you, of how Force Nexuses work?"

"Force Nexuses area where the Force gathers – like lay lines across the galaxy – and coupled with periods of long-term meditation can heighten a Force user's abilities. They're usually neutral, but some can oriented towards the dark or light side."

When he finished, Obi-Wan couldn't help the blush of embarrassment on his face. He was a grown man and he'd just given an answer that had all the outlining of school boy rhetoric. Yoda only nodded, giving another small hum of approval.

"There," The glimmer stick pointed to the direct other side of the room, where an ornately constructed door frame could barely be seen in the darkness, "the one who called you is."

Obi-Wan felt a blossoming of deep unease at those words as he glanced wearily at the doorway. "I assume I must go there, then."

"Yes."

"…and what will I find there?"

"Say I cannot, for different it would be for me." Yoda answered softly, his large eyes focused unseeingly on the space where Obi-Wan's feet rested. Wearily, the human Jedi stood and headed towards the opening. He glanced back at the ancient master – but only once, than steeled his nerves against whatever laid behind that door.

The room was…unlike anything Obi-Wan had ever seen before. As he observed it from the entryway, the young Jedi realized that it was not a room at all but a tomb. A small shudder went across his back at the realization. He took a step forward and nearly jumped the paving stone beneath his feet erupted into light. As he watched, stunned by the reaction, a wave of light seemed to roll over the room as nearly every surface within it shown a soft blue. As his eyes adjusted to it, Obi-Wan began to make out shapes. Three walls where solid, bare of the carving and paintings that littered the walls of the lower levels. Instead glowing gold and blue veins seemed to somehow move within the rock face. In the center of the room was a stone sarcophagus, carved to resemble the figure of a human male Jedi, lying silently as if in sleep.

It was an understatement to say that such a thing was unusual – Jedi had been cremating their dead for centuries. This tomb must predate the custom and if so, then whoever's body it was had long since dissolved into nothing. Or perhaps a body wasn't it in it at all, but merely the Jedi's effects. Regardless, Obi-Wan found himself more than a little curious by its existence. He'd heard nothing about a tomb being in the Temple.

The Jedi took a few hesitant steps forward, until he was just before the sarcophagus. He stared down at the figure, taking in the life-like carving. It truly seemed as if he simply reached out and touched it, the other man would awake.

" _I never thought it looked much like me."_ A voice said airily from his left and Obi-Wan spun around, eyes wide and started, lightsaber already half drawn before freezing in complete and utter shock. _A Force ghost?_ The blue figure glowed brightly in the dim room, the edges of his form slightly blurred due to the blue light that lit the room. _"But when you're already dead you don't really get much control over the decorating."_

"I see." Obi-Wan answered, voice flat as he examined the figure before him. He was clad in the traditional robes of a Jedi, unchanging as they had been for millennia but there was something – an aura of some kind, visible even after his death – that seemed to speak that this was no simple man.

He was human, or at least humanoid, Obi-Wan couldn't be sure due to the ghost's bleached coloring. He stood with an easy confidence and grace that seemed to command attention and Obi-Wan felt a frown tug at his lips as he observed the ghost. His face was…familiar…of sorts. But the young Jedi could not figure out where he'd seen it before.

"May I ask your name, Venerable Ancestor?"

The dead Jedi gave a short laugh before sending Obi-Wan a small, quirked smirk. _"Please, boy, no need for such formality. And as for my name – well, that's not entirely necessary for you to know."_

 _Right,_ Obi-Wan thought sourly, _why would that possibly be necessary?_

"Were you the one who guided me here?"

" _I am one of the ones who did, yes. Of them only I am strong enough still to speak to you."_ Obi-Wan stiffened as the ghost moved closer, stalking across the small distance between them with the attitude and grace of a big cat _. "Relax, I'm not here to harm you."_

Up close, he could see him much better. Chin length hair brushed backwards form his forehead, the vaguest hints of a beard along his jaw and sharp, intelligent eyes that seemed to look directly through him. "Then why are you here?"

" _To help you. After all, you and I share a unique bond."_

"And what," Obi-Wan eyed the ghost wearily, "is that?"

The image flickered as the dead Jedi sent him a toothy smile, _"We've both traveled through time."_

* * *

Rahm Kota was exhausted, in more ways than just physical. Next to him his young padawan Falon Grey seemed equally tired, his exhaustion presenting itself in the irritated, punchy movements he took as he hauled a duffle bag of gear that they'd brought back for the Temple Archives to examine.

Rahm had only been with the Jedi for twenty three years; having begun his tutoring after Mace Windu had found him on his war torn planet and brought him back to the Temple to train. An unusual act, giving the age restrictions, but Rahm had been told multiple times that it was his personality, his natural light side affinity that made his training possible. Regardless of how he'd been brought into the Order, Rahm was more than happy to be a part of it. The Temple was more of home to him than his own birth planet. More than just providing a home, it had also given him a family.

Mace was like an elder brother and it was through the Haruun Kallian Jedi that he'd met the two masters who had guided him to Knighthood. Though officially he was the padawan of Master Yoda, the ancient Grand Master was too busy with his work in the Temple to take Rahm out into the field and so a second, axillary Master had been needed. It had been Mace that suggested the then Qui-Gon Jinn, the closest thing to a father figure the ex-soldier would ever had. At twenty-seven, the Jedi Knight had yet to gain the lore of rebellion that would follow his later actions, or Rahm doubted the suggestion would ever had been made.

At seventeen, Rahm had thought he'd seen everything and he damn near had. It had taken Qui-Gon months to knock his arrogance down a few pegs, but when he had, the Jedi had done it spectacularly.

 _The wood beneath his hands creaked as he squeezed the life out of the branch before him. In the young padawan's mind – it was not a branch, but rather Knight Jinn's neck._ How dare he embarrass me like that! _The ex-soldier thought furiously._ I am no child, _the wood creaked more. His flesh may only be seventeen but he was far older - no one who's held the line for ten years could be considered a child._

" _Come now, Padawan Kota, whatever did that poor branch do to you?"_

_The sound of the Knight's voice only served to fuel his irritation. He removed his hands from the branch, swinging around to glare at Jinn. The Knight was dressed casually, his over robe and boots gone, brown hair loose around his shoulders. Grey eyes glanced from the dented branch to his already bruising hands._

" _Such anger."_

" _Don't pretend you don't know why!" Rahm snapped. He could take the patronization from Master Yoda – he was a Grandmaster after all – but he'd be damned if he be talked down to by a man ten years his senior._

" _All of this because I vetoed your assault plan?" Jinn frowned and shook his head. "Search your feelings, Rahm, you know what I said to you was correct."_

_There were not words enough to describe how much the teenager hated that particular saying._

_And yet Rahm couldn't quiet the small part of him that was whispering that the Knight's comments had not been that far off the mark. Rahm's analysis had been…flawed. The realization caught him off guard and he instantly denied it. He had risen to the rank of general on his home world – there was no way he could be mistaken about anything military!_

" _Perhaps Yoda was right, it is still too soon to take you from the Temple. I will ask for a replace-"_

" _Don't you dare," The teenager snapped, "I refuse to slink back to the Temple like an overwhelmed child."_

" _Well you're certainly behaving like one." Jinn said with no small hint of irritation. "I haven't seen such a classic example of tantrum since the last time I volunteered in the crèche."_

_The Force rippled angrily around them – Kota knew he was broadcasting too loudly even before the frown deepened on the Knight's face._

" _I am not a child." He managed to grind out, fighting to push past the anger and irritation that was filling him. The strength of it surprised him and for a moment Rahm felt fear fill himself at it. He'd never been afraid of his anger before – but the young padawan had also never felt the Force echo with it before either._

_Jinn crossed the garden in a few measured steps, one hand snapping out and grabbing Rahm by the chin, forcing the teenager to stare up at the taller Jedi. His grey eyes were sharp and evaluating as he stared down at him and for a horrible moment Rahm felt completely and utterly naked – somehow stripped of all his defenses and laid bare before the Knight. The older man stared down at him for a long, hard moment before the grip on his chin loosened ever so slightly._

" _But you are a child, Rahm." Jinn stated, his voice calm despite the emotions that were displayed on his face. "While you may be no stranger to the cruelties of the universe, when it comes to the ways of the Force you are but a toddler – behind even those who have only just left the crèche. You are no mighty General here, no brave soldier who saves innocents and is displayed proudly on global holo-nets."_

_Rahm tried to look away but Jinn's grip tightened once more._

" _And you better wake up and realize that. You chose to leave the army, you chose to come to the Temple and train. You chose to leave that life behind. And that means you get to start at the bottom all over again. And unlike the military, Rahm, if you fail here it is not death that awaits you but something far more horrible."_

_The teenager glanced wearily up at the Knight. What could be worse than death? He didn't voice his thoughts but the Knight seemed to hear it anyway._

" _The Darkside is not just a boogie story we tell our young, it is a real threat that will destroy not only you but those you care about. It will twist you into the very things you fought so hard against in your war." Unwillingly, the young padawan recalled the fear he had felt only moments ago. "Had any other Jedi witnessed that – you'd be facing far more than just being taken off the mission."_

_Rahm dropped his eyes, unwilling to hold the Knights intense gaze when he spoke such truths. He knew – somewhere deep inside of him – that what Jinn was saying was true. He hadn't been succeeding within the Jedi like he had with the army and for the life of him, Rahm hadn't been able to figure out why._

" _It's time you started taking responsibility for your choices, Kota."_

_Was it possible that the Knight be telling the truth? Had he allowed his own hubris to keep him from success? No, it couldn't be. When the hell had anyone ever tried to really help him without getting something in return? It just didn't happen in real life._

_His jaw was released as Jinn took a step backwards._

" _I am not your enemy, Padawan." The teenager glanced up at him surprise at the familiarity of the title. "All I want is to see you succeed. If you'll let me."_

_There was a pause and then Rahm let out a long exhale. "I will try."_

Things had changed for the better after that. With his pride put away Rahm had been able to truly develop as a Jedi. And after nearly nine years of serving as the man's de facto apprentice, the two had grown close enough that the Council thought it fitting to give Qui-Gon the title "Master" after his Knighthood.

Speaking of which, he'd have to make sure he'd see Qui-Gon. He'd heard through various contacts that his Master had returned recently with his errant padawan in tow. Rahm had never had a chance to meet Kenobi personally, though he had seen the boy fight a few times before.

He'd certainly left a hell of a mark on Qui-Gon, that was for sure. At first Rahm had been understandably worried about the boy – and not just because he'd been 'kidnapped.' It had no small part to do with the betrayal of Xanatos and a large part to do with the fact that Rahm was positive his former master was not telling him the whole truth about Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The brunette Knight felt his lips quirk in amusement as his padawan pulled up next to him, mumbled irritably to himself.

"…full of bantha-shavit, the whole thing, I swear…" The eighteen year old ran a hand through his short blonde hair, still mumbling. "…heavy as all…un-frigging-believable..."

He ruffled the irritated blonde's hair, ignoring the glare it earned him. Falon was a son to him, even if he was very much like an over grown toddler when denied sleep. Not that Rahm could blame his spirited padawan for that. The last mission had been very rough.

Falon's muttering stopped as Rahm's head snapped to the side, eyebrows rising in surprise as the Force whispered through him from a derelict but still present training bond. An incredibly irritated looking Qui-Gon stormed around a corner seconds later, face drawn in a sharp frown. He stopped mid-step, staring at the two of them with a look of blank thought. Next to him, Falon stepped slightly closer to him. Rahm fought the urge to snort as his padawan's unease. The fact that the rogue Jedi made so many uneasy was a matter of humor for the Knight – it was hard to take someone seriously once you've seen them completely wasted on Gregor Mead after all.

"Hello, Qui-Gon. You look…" Rahm's greeting faded off as the look on the older man's face shifted into one he knew far too well. "Well, good to see you but as you can tell we're both quite tired, so," He gave a slight push on Falon's shoulders as he turned and began a hasty retreat towards the nearest lift, "off we go."

He'd only gotten a few steps away when Qui-Gon's voice stopped him in his steps. "Padawan."

 _Damn cheater,_ the Knight thought as he glanced over his shoulder, wincing slightly at the calculating look on the older Jedi's face. "…yes?"

"I'm in need of your assistance."

"Can it wait, I-"

"No."

Rahm felt his shoulders droop slightly. "Yes, Master."

He gave Falon instructions to go on home before slinging the second duffle bag he'd been carrying at him, ignoring the glare his padawan gave him as Falon dragged both into the lift. He turned and fell easily in step next to his former Master, glancing at the Qui-Gon's disheveled state curiously.

"So, what's going on?"

"I seem to have misplaced my padawan."

"What, again?" That earned him an incredibly icy glare but the younger Jedi couldn't help but feel like it was worth it.

"Shut up, Rahm."

* * *

Obi-Wan had relocated to the floor, staring at the dead Jedi in open shock. The ghost was leaning casually against his own tomb, watching him with a look of grim amusement.

" _Did you throw up when you first arrived? I did. Vomited all over my best friend's face. Repeatedly. Man, was he angry."_

"The main hall," Obi-Wan said after a few long moments of forced even breathing, "During class exchange."

The dead Jedi whistled softly. _"Alright, you've kind of got me beat there."_

"I don't understand," The younger Jedi said, staring up at the ghost in desperate confusion, "If this has happened before why isn't there any record of it?"

" _Like I said, it's incredibly rare. As far as I know, you and I are the only ones the Force has ever sent back. Think of it as a manual reset. A chance to stop something terrible from happening."_

Obi-Wan stared at his booted feet intensely. For years he had wondered why he was here and now that he had a chance to actually get some answers he couldn't seem to formulate any intelligent questions. "Still, if it happened at all, considering what it is, you think they'd be mention of it somewhere."

The ghost tisked and Obi-Wan had the distinct impression he'd asked something stupid.

" _I didn't exactly advertise what had happened to me to a whole lot of people. Add in the fact that I died three thousand years ago, and the Jedi have been destroyed and rebuilt more than once since then, it's not too far of a stretch that the knowledge of successful time travel was lost."_

"I won't let it happen again." Obi-Wan said fiercely, head snapping up to stare at the ghost. "I won't allow the Jedi to fall."

The dead Jedi stared at him for a long moment, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as they swept over his determined face. _"Yeah, I'm aware of that. That's part of the reason I wanted to meet you. You're on a dangerous path, boy, and I don't even think you realize it."_

"I'm already aware that I've crossed the line with my hunting, I am-"

" _I'm not talking about you taking out a few Dark Jedi or Sith."_ The ghost interrupted harshly, " _Greater men then you have killed far more and still served the Light until their death. I'm talking about what the hell you could unleash on your galaxy through trying to protect it."_

"You mean through my fear." Obi-Wan answered flatly. The chill that was seeping through his clothing from the stone was beginning to match the same one that seemed to be growing in his chest. Had Qui-Gon not just warned him of the strength of his fear? Where it would take him if he let it?

The ghost made an affirmative gesture. _"The old writers always warn you of anger and lust and greed but fear is the real enemy to a Jedi. Fear and love. You have to understand, through your will to protect you could easily become a bigger threat then what you were trying to save it from."_

"You're talking from experience." It wasn't a question and the ghost didn't try to deny it.

" _When I lived there was a terrible evil approaching, one that I knew we weren't prepared to fight. There were too many wars, too many fragmentation for us to survive. And everything – the Order, the Republic – everything, was about to collapse into nothing."_ The ghost's voice and face was hard. _"And I was willing to do anything to protect it, even if it meant turning my back on what I was trying to save."_

"And so you fell."

" _And so I fell."_ There was a long silence, then, _"And despite the powers I had accumulated as Sith Lord I was still unable to fend off the invaders. When I died, I woke up three years into the past at the very moment I fell a second time. Only this time, I did not. I returned to the light."_

"I will not allow that to happen to me." Obi-Wan said with sharp conviction.

" _You are a cocky little thing aren't you?"_ The dead Jedi said with no small measure of dark humor, _"So was I. And even firmly on the Lightside I failed. Do you want to know why? Because I never asked for anyone's help."_

Obi-Wan stiffened and was on his feet before he realized he had moved. "I will not involve any more Jedi in this then I must. I will not have their deaths on my consciousness a second time, not when I am already so close to stopping it from happening again!"

And he was, the Jedi realized with a start. All that was left, truly, was to kill Sidious and pets Dooku and Grievous and the main players would be removed. Obi-Wan felt his breathing skip in shock as he tallied silently in his head - he had killed nearly everyone else. They were large battles yes – but they were doable.

" _That was my mistake – I limited the truth to three other individuals. The first I killed, the second gave up everything to die by my side in some shavit hole and the third I abandoned. And it was not because I did not think that the Jedi of my time could win – no, it was more than that. I was too afraid of things being out of my control. The more variables there were the more chances that things would go terribly wrong. Listen to my counsel,"_ The dead Jedi urged, _"For there is no one else alive or dead that can truly give it to you."_

But Obi-Wan was already shaking his head in denial. "That's not why I've been so secretive. It's not that I would not listen," He replied evenly, "It's that I know what I say is just as true. I'm trying to protect the Jedi by keeping them out of it, not maintain some paranoid control over them."

" _Do you truly believe that?"_

And to Obi-Wan's shock, he found he didn't. _That…that can't possibly be true! That can't be the reason!_

The look the ghost was giving him was a mixture between cold calculation and honest pity.

" _Learning to ask for help is something most beings struggle with their entire life. Unfortunately for you, you've not got that kind of time. The fear, the horror of knowing how bad it's going to get…or of not knowing how it's going to end, you have to let it go. In the end, everything is the will of the Force."_

"I…I will think on what you've said." Obi-Wan answered quietly, suddenly feeling utterly and completely defeated.

" _I wish you luck, Obi-Wan Kenobi, truly. We will not meet again."_ Then the ghost turned, fading away even as he took his first few steps away from the devastatingly confused Jedi. Desperation erupted at the sight and Obi-Wan leapt forward, hand reaching out foolishly to grasp at a translucent limb.

"Wait!" The dead Jedi paused, looking at Obi-Wan's hand with a look of incredibility even as he faded away almost completely. "Please, your name?"

The ghost stared at him for a long moment, becoming harder and harder to distinguish from the tomb as each moment went by. In seconds, there was no one there at all and Obi-Wan slumped in disappointment. There was a breath right next to his ear, causing the hair on the back of his neck to rise as he swung around to face empty air.

" _They called me Revan."_

* * *

When Obi-Wan left the tomb, he was not surprised to find Master Yoda had not moved. The sight of the small Master filled the drained Jedi with equal feelings of relief and dread. His heart was burning so bad he could almost taste in the back of his throat. He did not know if he could stomach another conversation of such caliber.

"Find what you needed, did you?" The Master's voice was soft, understanding as he watched the younger Jedi stumble awkwardly across the hall. Obi-Wan stood before him, feeling more helpless and confused then he had ever in his life.

Revan had spoken the truth. Obi-Wan had known that the moment the Council took control he'd lose much of the decision making process and he feared that lack of control would equate a death sentence for them all. And he couldn't let that happen again. But that one, selfish reason hadn't been the only one! He had wanted to protect his loved ones, to keep them from coming to harm a second time.

 _But,_ a traitorous part of his mind pointed out sharply, _isn't that just a display of fear in itself? Face it, Kenobi, you've been nothing but terrified from the moment you realized where you were._

Yoda was still watching him; ears ever so slightly drooped as the Grand Master's eyes studied every emotion that flashed across Obi-Wan's unguarded face.

"I-" His voice sounded pathetic, even to him and none of Obi-Wan's attempts to regain his composure seemed to be working under the damn troll's hypnotic stare. "I don't know what to do. I...I need help."

The last part was more of a croak than anything else, but the words were truly shaped if reluctantly spoken. Yoda leaned back, a look of triumph flashing across his face before disappearing behind the ever present look of dopey omnipresence that belonged solely to the Grand Master.

"Then sit," Yoda said softly, patting the spot next to him, "And we will talk."


	20. And We Will Talk, Part 2

"Of the ones you have killed, tell me."

Obi-Wan stared at the small Master for a moment before turning away, running a hand through his hair and then began to pace the small lit area in front of where the Grand Master was seated. With an unsteady breath Obi-Wan began with his first kill, with Xanatos, and then told of the many, many others who followed. He was careful not to look at Yoda has he told his tale, too afraid of what he might see on the ancient Jedi's face. It felt like he'd been talking for hours. Maybe he had, it was impossible to tell time down here. He spared Yoda nothing – he spared _himself_ nothing. Obi-Wan told him of every failure, every moment of doubt, denial and killing that had lead the younger Jedi to this point.

And finally, heart burning and throat hoarse, the stream of words from Obi-Wan trickled to a stop until they ended with his greatest secret. After the near constant sound of his murmuring, the silence in the room was deafening. Slowly, Obi-Wan ceased his pacing and turned to face the Grand Master. He was not surprised, though somehow it was almost hurtful, to see the same calm, blank stare that Yoda had always had.

The silence continued, stretched, and Obi-Wan could feel his fear stretch with it. Gaining ground inside him until it filled his mind with every terrible reaction the small Jedi could have. He was about to break, to beg the Master to say anything when Yoda let out a sigh and leaned forward on his gimmer stick.

"So. The truth, Qui-Gon told. From the future you believe yourself to be."

"Qui-Gon… _Qui-Gon_ told you?" Even though Obi-Wan did not truly have the right to be angry with his Master for betraying his confidence, especially since the younger Jedi had never directly asked him to keep it a secret, that logic could not stop the rather illogical blossoming of betrayal in his chest.

Yoda's head tilted ever so slightly to the side and when he spoke his tone was not without the hint of rebuke. "Gone, his padawan was. Only silence and darkness could he find. And above it all, an unbelievable story. Frightened for you both, Qui-Gon was. His right, it was."

Obi-Wan looked away, more than a little embarrassed that he had been broadcasting his feelings so easily. "So, you knew? All these years?"

"Knew, yes. Believed? Suspected its truth. But sure I could not be, until with me once more you were." A clawed hand reached out, tracing something that Obi-Wan couldn't see. "Changed you are. Older," a look of distinct sadness took that wizened Master's features, "saddened. Defeated."

Obi-Wan felt his shoulders drop lower with each word. Yes. He was all of those.

"Believe you, I wish dearly to. But…" The younger Jedi felt his hopes sink. It was too much, too fantastical…too mad. He did not blame Master Yoda for being unable to believe him. But that left him with very few options. Already, Obi-Wan's mind was flying through different scenarios, trying to find the best route to avoid being imprisoned by the Council. Perhaps he could –

"Prove yourself you may, if you wish it."

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped to stare at the small Master. His reply was immediate. "What must I do?"

The Grand Master slid from the bench, his wizened form making a slow but steadily path past Obi-Wan and up the carved stairs until he was in front of the Hearthstone. Instinctively, Obi-Wan had turned and followed behind, eyes widening the closer they got to the ancient stone. He glanced down at Yoda, mouth dry as his scattered wits somehow begun to understand what the Jedi Master was asking him to do. Master Yoda said nothing, even his visage gave nothing of what the Grand Master felt away; he simply stared up at Obi-Wan with those droopy eyes, both hands resting on his gimmer stick.

Heart in his throat, Obi-Wan reached over, never breaking eye contact with the older Jedi and pressed his palm against the Hearthstone. Instantly it grew hot, an unearthly aqua colored light pulsing underneath the crystal and his palm. The light throbbed in time with his heartbeat, growing brighter and brighter with each quivering beat. The Force was gathering around them, growing thicker and thicker with each blaze of light until Obi-Wan swore he could have reached out and plucked a string of it from the air.

There was a hissing sound and Obi-Wan's eyes shot from the Hearthstone to the ceiling as one after another the auxiliary lights blew and showered the chamber with white sparks. A pulse of pure energy underneath his palm drew his attention to the crystal once more and Obi-Wan gasped, face twisted in equal measures of horror and awe as he felt the Hearthstone itself reach for him and suddenly the Jedi was aware of every swooping, twisting inch of the nexus they were standing on.

Obi-Wan had just enough time to look once more at Master Yoda, eyes pleading, before a white wall of the Force swept across his mind.

* * *

The lift was shaking slightly as it made its way down to the lowest level of the Temple. From where he stood, Kit Fisto was wondering how the hell it was that he always got into these kind of predicaments. Truly, he should have abandoned the Lake sooner, but he had not thought Qui-Gon would trace Obi-Wan to him so quickly. Or even that he would have the need to.

Foolishly, the Nautolan Jedi had believed Padawan Kenobi when he said he would be reporting back to his irate Master, not go hide even more. And so here he stood, next to an equally bemused looking Rahm Kota, joining in the search for the errant padawan. He knew Rahm quite well, Kit had been on several missions with the Human Knight and rather liked him. But it wasn't for their friendship that Kit had insisted on accompanying the two Humans. It was because if Obi-Wan Kenobi disappeared a second time, his padawan's heart was going to be irreparable.

The lift doors opened, revealing the desolate greyness that was the Lower Levels of the Temple Ziggurat. No one came down here. It was stupid they were down here. The First Level of the Temple was off limits for a reason. Even if Rahm had been able to bypass the security clearance block and bring the lift down didn't mean it was a good idea. Kit had voiced his concern and had been met with an icy glare and fallen silent.

 _Why, again, am I here?_ The Nautolan Jedi couldn't help but wonder. _Bant,_ he told himself as he stepped onto forbidden stone pavers, _remember it's for Bant._

Next to him, Rahm sighed as they fell instep behind the thunderous Master. "It makes no sense, Qui-Gon. I know the lift history places him in the Lower Levels, but what possible reason would Obi-Wan have to go down here?"

"You will find that often there is little my Padawan does that makes sense," was Jinn's rather caustic answer.

"Great." Kit said darkly, tugging on the end of one of his head-tresses in annoyance. "That makes me feel so much better."

There was a sharp intake of breath from next to him and Kit glanced over at the human Knight in curiosity. Rahm's face was pale.

"Master," and Kit felt his curiosity really rise, as it was rare to hear the Knight refer to Jinn as such, "tell me you're not thinking what I'm think you are." There was a long silence and the Nautolan found himself growing slightly more alarmed. Kota's hand flashed out, gripping the stern Jedi's sleeve in an either incredibly foolish or brave move. Most likely both. The Knight yanked the taller human to a stop. "Qui-Gon, you can't!"

"It's the only reason he'd be down here."

It was right about then that Kit realized what they were talking about. A set of ornately carved doors were only feet in front of them. Kit made a choking sound, his own hand reaching out and fisting in Jinn's robe sleeve. The look he earned from the grey eyes was enough to make him swallow reflexively.

He forced his voice to remain calm and steady as he stared back. "We can't go in there, you know that. It's forbidden to enter the Chamber without permission. You could lose your title."

"I am aware of that." Qui-Gon replied quietly, ripping his arm free and looking away from them both. Kit exchanged a desperate glance with Rahm, pleading with the younger Human to talk some sense into his former Master.

"Master, we don't even know if Obi-Wan's there and–"

"He's here. I can feel it." Suddenly the Jedi Master looked years older, his expression one of utter exhaustion. "You two do not have to enter. But I must." Then again, quieter, "I must."

Kit grit his teeth, irritation flaring in his breast. "Is he worth this, Jinn?" Rahm shot him a warning look, but the Nautolan pressed on. "Is Obi-Wan Kenobi really worth this?"

The answer was instant. "Yes."

The Nautolan hissed, "But why?"

Kit couldn't see it. He just couldn't. In that moment, Kit realized that it was more than just the effect Kenobi had on Bant that bothered him. It was the fact that this stupid, selfish, runaway had brought one of the greatest of their Order to this – to look like this. Like a broken, beaten old man. Qui-Gon Jinn had been a legend throughout his padawanship. Someone that Knights who skirted the code like himself could look up to. Even after the dark period that had followed his second padawan's death, Qui-Gon had still managed to accomplish so much, to save so many.

And then Obi-Wan Kenobi had come and for all intense and purposes, Qui-Gon the Hero died and in his place came a man that was hardly recognizable. A man who shunned missions in favor of chasing a boy who hadn't even want to be found. It was obvious to anyone with eyes what that search had cost Qui-Gon. A chance at a seat on the Council. His friendship with both Mace Windu and Depa Billaba and many, many other Jedi. The Master had not even shown up for Tahl's funeral, his last living Clanmate! How could anything ever be worth that?

They locked eyes and Kit's own widened at the depth of emotion he found in them. It was a remarkable display for a man renowned for being inexpressive. A shudder ran down Kit's spine as his head-tresses twitched against the pheromones they were sensing.

"I understand you must think me foolish." Qui-Gon's voice was level, those grey eyes never leaving Kit's own. "Often, I have thought the same of myself. Why do I constantly find myself pursuing a boy who does not seem to want me?" Kit felt himself flush with guilt. That was almost word for word of what he had thought. "In truth, Obi-Wan does not need me. Not in the way a padawan needs their Master. I lost that years ago." Jinn's voice was still level, still composed, but there was no denying the ache of sadness that resonated in them. "He is always doing things that I can't understand –"

Rahm was staring now as well, face open in his shock at the older Jedi's display.

"–and going places where I should not follow. But I will." Those eyes were burning with so much promise and devotion that coupled with the emotion the older Jedi's body was all but leaking into the Force the Nautolan found himself taking a shaky step backwards. "Because I must. Do you understand?"

All the Kit could do was nod, blinking both sets of his eyes lids hard in an attempt to clear the foreign emotions that were running rampant in his chest. Grey eyes finally dropped and Kit felt like he could breathe freely once more. The Human Jedi turned, his hand reaching out with no hesitation as it gripped the doors to the sanctuary. It was a split second after Qui-Gon opened it that the Force erupted violently around them.

* * *

The Force was raging so strongly in the Hearthstone Chamber that it was like a gale. The sheer strength of it whipped Qui-Gon's cloak violently, forceful enough to push him backwards and cause him to grip at the sides of the stone archway to anchor himself. His other hand shot out, catching a stunned Rahm by the sleeve and yanking him forward until his former padawan was pinned between Qui-Gon's side and the open door, his gloved fingers scrambling for purchase just underneath Qui-Gon's own. The Force imbued wind stung at his eyes and the Jedi Master instinctively turned from it. Kit was pressed against the opposite wall of the door, arms and legs splayed flat against the wall. The Nautolan's face was still with shock, pupiless eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

Next to him Rahm swore loudly and Qui-Gon forced himself to look back inside the chamber. The only light in the chamber was the Hearthstone itself, something that Qui-Gon had never seen nor heard of it doing. The squall was strong enough that the stone benches that circled the Hearthstone were slowly being pushed backwards. And at the very center of it, illuminated in flashes by the pulsing light of the Hearthstone, was Obi-Wan and Master Yoda. They seemed unaware of the reaction around them, the two stood still as statues, eyes locked. The other side of the bond was chaotic – nothing but flashes of emotions both too strong and too short for Qui-Gon to understand. He desperately wanted to go to his padawan, but fear and the sheer force of the energy in the room kept him pressed to the door side.

"What's happening?" Rahm shouted, but Qui-Gon only shook his head. He had no idea, except whatever it was monumental. The lines of the Force nexus could actually be seen, like long vines that poured from the Hearthstone, tracing lines of aqua light across the floor and walls and ceiling that pulsated rhythmically. As they watched the lines grew fatter, larger, spreading until the entire domed roof of the Chamber was covered in an aqua cast. The Force built in the room, growing more and more oppressive as it gathered. It wasn't Dark, nor was it Light. It was without alignment, an element of nature that pressed down like harsh pressure on a broken bone to any sensitive to it.

Next to him, Rahm was breathing as if he'd run a marathon, his eyes wide and frightened as he stared from his former master to the aqua light of the Hearthstone. Qui-Gon tightened his grip on the younger Jedi, trying to comfort even as his own heart beat with unevenly. "The ceiling – Force, Qui-Gon, do you see...?"

The older Jedi could not bring himself to answer, his own breath coming in ragged pants as he watched the images slowly form. The Grand Master moved then, cocking his head back to stare at the dome. Qui-Gon let out a startled sound as the first image formed. It was of himself. He was crouched, cast in shades of aqua, glancing to the left and the Jedi can't contain the full body jerk of alarm when he heard his own voice echo across the Chamber.

" _Battle droids."_

Obi-Wan forms next, along with the background of a ventilation shaft, physically older then he was now but somehow looking younger than Qui-Gon had ever seen. Even his voice sounded lighter. " _It's an invasion army."_

" _It's an odd play for the Trade Federation. We've got to warn the Naboo and contact Chancellor Valorum. Let's split up. Stow aboard separate ships and meet down on the planet."_

" _You were right about one thing, Master. The negotiations were short."_

Suddenly Qui-Gon knows exactly what he is seeing – because it is the same memory-that-could-not-be-a-memory that Obi-Wan had given to him and Qui-Gon spoke the next line in tandem with his other self _("You have a dry sense of humor, my Padawan"_ ) and he could feel the heat of Rahm's eyes on him.

And the images went on and on and on. As Qui-Gon watched, he saw himself introduce a little blonde boy – _Anakin_ – to a rather dismissive Obi-Wan. He watched as he announced his willingness to end his Learner Bond in front of the Council ( _"An apprentice, you have, Qui-Gon. Impossible, to take on a second.")_ and Qui-Gon can only feel bitter self-reproach as he watched Obi-Wan's face become utterly blank and it made everything that much more horrid because he had Obi-Wan's memories and knows exactly what the boy was feeling at that moment. He watchesd himself die, watched Obi-Wan's denial and self-loathing.

But even after his death, the images played on, dancing from memory to memory. He watched as Obi-Wan grow older, became the great man (" _Why in the Force would you want me on the Council? You know I'm useless at Temple Politics.")_ that those precious few moments he'd been shown had only ever hinted at. He watched as Anakin slipped from Obi-Wan. Watched as the blonde withdrrew, as his countenance grrew more bitter and more angry. He watched as Obi-Wan scrambled after him, desperately trying to reconnect, only to be distracted by other duties.

" _Anakin, please. Let's talk."_

" _You don't want to hear what I have to say."_

" _That's not true, please, talk to me. I –"_

" _Master Kenobi!"_

" _You better go. That's the Council's runner."_

" _I…yes. Anakin, once this war is over, we can-"_

" _You're busy, Master, I understand."_

He saw Obi-Wan burn Garen Muln's belongings on a burial altar. Watched as he burned Bant, burned countless others. Watched as Obi-Wan almost dies again ( _"It's a trap, get out!")_ and again ( _"I'm alright, Kody, it just looks bad.")_ and again ( _"Thirty to one, I've had worse odds.")_ in a war that was manned by Jedi Generals and it all makes little sense, even with the little snatches of conversation that accompanied the memories.

He watched as Obi-Wan killed Sith after Dark Jedi after Acolyte after Sith. Watched as he fought a being that was more machine then not. A horrible cyborg, a Jedi Killer, that brought out a side of Obi-Wan that Qui-Gon had never seen before.

The Temple burned and Obi-Wan stood in a hall of dead Jedi. He shook, face is pale and staggered - would have fallen if Master Yoda steadied him. The Grand Master looks no different than the one standing in the Chamber, except that his face wore an expression that Qui-Gon had never seen before and cannot even begin to comprehend but knew he would remember forever.

The image shifted once more and they room was cast in blue-orange. Obi-Wan and Anakin fight with a skill that left Qui-Gon breathless. It seemed to stretch on forever, neither opponent tiring and even though he knows it is not real, Qui-Gon found himself tensing more and more as each moment passed. How can he not? He knew what was coming.

It happened. Obi-Wan faltered in the killing blow and Anakin turned it. Obi-Wan was pinned on his back, staring up at the blonde with a look of betrayed fear, tears streaming down heat burnt cheeks. He shouted at Anakin, voice hoarse and filled with such hurt and love that Qui-Gon cannot stand to hear it. The Sith laughed, his voice cruel and so sharp that it leaves a dark echo. The blade came down and Qui-Gon looked away seconds before it strikes and hated himself for it.

And then it is over.

* * *

Obi-Wan came back to himself about the moment his knees hit the floor. He's staring at Master Yoda blankly, heart burning and pounding so loudly in his ears that Obi-Wan couldn't hear anything but it. The Force storm around them was dissipating, the Hearthstone's glow fading, but he can't take his eyes off of Master Yoda.

"You knew that would happen?" Such a stupid, stupid question and yet Obi-Wan could not stop himself from asking it, nor could he keep the betrayal from his voice. He felt like he'd been ripped open, gouged, the worse moments of his adult life put on display.

"Sure, I had to be. Come home sooner, had you, and known sooner I would have as well."

The human Jedi stiffened at those words, struggling to his feet. "You would not have believed me then, even with all this! You would have thought me mad! You only believe me now because the people I killed were as Dark as those in my memory! You would have forced this - this–"

The gimmer stick slammed into his thigh with a reckoning blow that sent Obi-Wan back to his knees.

"Raised Jedi longer than your parents-parents have lived, I have! Know the difference between an angry child and a shift, I do!" Yoda wasn't yelling, but the volume of his voice had risen enough to actually shock Obi-Wan into complete and utter silent submission. "Of others who have fallen backwards, I have heard. Their stories, I know _._ Believed them, I did not. But known of them, I had! Known all of this, you would have, _if to me you had only come_. Then saved you this violation, perhaps I could have."

The silence that followed those words were deafening and something deep inside Obi-Wan seemed to be withering in shame. He could not bring himself to look at the little Master. Could not bring himself to consider what he was saying. To have miscalculated in such a way was not possible. Could not be. How much woulds be different, how many would still be alive if he had only gone to Master Yoda?

Tahl?

Those girls?

Would his hands not have become so very stained?

Why hadn't Obi-Wan ever given going to Master Yoda any serious thought? There had a been a few moments after his return, during the sparring practices where he'd come close, but the Jedi knew even now that he would never had told the Grand Master what was happening.

Why? Why hadn't he ever…?

_It's just, everything was moving so fast, I was confused – I still thought I was going to wake up and any minute and be truly dead…and…and…_

He'd done nothing wrong! It was absurd. How could he have possibly predicted that Yoda would been willing to handle his story? For the Force's sake, Obi-Wan himself didn't even really believe everything was truly happening until he'd killed his first Sith outside of the original timeline. Even after that, for months Obi-Wan kept expecting to wake up to Anakin standing over him. If he couldn't believe it, it was only natural that another Jedi wouldn't either.

" _I was too afraid of things being out of my control. The more variables there were the more chances that things would go terribly wrong."_

 _No!_ Obi-Wan snapped at the memory, throwing a glare at the closed tomb doors. _No, that is not the case. That's not why I kept my distance!_

_It isn't!_

…and it sounded like he was making excuses, even to himself.

There was another long exhale. "And yet still, to me you come only under duress. From my children, more I expect."

Obi-Wan couldn't help the loud, harsh swallow that escaped him at Master Yoda's disappointment. The realization struck him that he had managed to personally wound the most beloved Jedi of their time. He wanted to defend himself. Wanted to say that if Yoda had really wanted to, the little Master could have found him. Or could have forced him to speak his mind before he left. But Obi-Wan was also a Jedi Master. And he knew that was not the lesson being taught here.

If the ground could swallow him up, Obi-Wan would have gratefully allowed it.

"Hubris, ego, fear. These have long been the downfall of Jedi." The younger Jedi couldn't even bring to look at Master Yoda. "Alone, you should not have been. So much pain..."

First Revan and now Yoda. It was all almost too much. The memories he had been forced to relive should have fortified Obi-Wan's faith in himself, instead it only made him feel tired. Tired and broken. But he had done what he had to! _Force_ , Obi-Wan didn't even know! His head felt like it was going to implode. The Jedi shook his head, fighting against the familiar sting of tears in his eyes and Obi-Wan bit his lip harshly, trying somehow to reason with the conflicting emotions flaring about in his head.

"I…Master, I…"

"A young man's folly, your actions were." Yoda said softly, a clawed hand reaching out to gently tilt Obi-Wan's troubled face up to look at him once more. "But young, you still are. And abandoned you to the council, I will not. Dry your eyes. Alone, you are not, Obi-Wan. Believe in your vision, I do. As do others."

Frowning, he followed the Master's pointed stare to the doorway and froze.

Obi-Wan was on his feet in an instant, eyes wide as he took in the forms of Qui-Gon, Rahm Kota and Kit Fisto. The way the three of them were looking at him…Obi-Wan took a step backwards. Then another. How much had they seen? How much did they know? A third step, wilder this time as his Master took a hesitant step forward. Obi-Wan wanted to scream at them – wanted to tell them to stop looking at him like that but Obi-Wan couldn't seem to get enough air and the burning in his heart had made it to the back of his throat and – and he was falling, his legs liquid beneath him.

The Force cradled him and a split second later it was replaced by Qui-Gon. His Master's touch was gentle and his eyes – his eyes wouldn't stop staring. Looking at him with that same damn look. As if he was…as if he was something more than he was. Because Obi-Wan knew exactly what he was. And he did not deserve anything that he saw in the Jedi Master's gaze.

The fire in his chest was growing, consuming everything and Obi-Wan still couldn't seem to get enough air - but then there's a clawed hand against his chest and the burning slowed and there was the twisting twinge of a less then subtle sleep suggestion and…


	21. And We Will Talk, Part 3

The club was full of rocking bodies of all sizes, the smell of sweat and lust, warm and electric-like dominated the small but incredibly popular place. The DJs were perched high above the crowd, three working in tandem as they slowly drove the swaying creatures below them insane. Tucked away in a corner – far enough away from the flashing dance floor not to be bothered yet still close enough to the bar so that if the need for a drink should arise it would be handled with the appropriate amount of swiftness – a dark figure sat.

The only light in the small corner came from the soft glow of the pinkish drink, held precariously by two gloved fingers and the occasional flare of a cigarette as its owner watched the crowd slowly work itself towards a mass orgasm with a look of disgusted fascination. Cast in the neon light, the youth that sat with his feet so casually up on a nearby seat seemed harmless, no different from the other disenfranchised teenagers who flocked to the night clubs for relief from their incredibly droll lives.

A closer observation by a keen eye would quickly prove otherwise. While the head of dark hair may be cut in the same, roguishly attractive cut that was so popular and his clothing, all shades of black, only slightly more dramatic than the average clubber, it was his eyes that revealed that his difference.

If not the fact that the ice blue iris seemed to be rimmed by unnatural yellow, small tendrils of the color seeping inwards; but rather it was the marked cruelty reflected in them. Fortunately for Boden du Crion, most of the beings he interacted seemed thoroughly disconnected from all but their basic instincts and he was able, except for those very rare instances, to move with ease amongst them.

He watched the crowd, the smile on his lips somewhere between a smirk and a leer. The beat of the song was so loud it echoed in his very bones, rattling his chest cavity with a wonderful consistency that made Boden feel like he was almost going to fly apart. The young Sith let his sharp gaze turn hungry as he searched the group for someone appropriate to sate the lust that was already making his vibrating body react.

Its then that Boden saw him. For a moment his mouth dropped open in a rather ungraceful show of shock, than he couldn't keep the slow spread of self-satisfaction that turned into a rather impressive smirk. The figure in the club entryway stood out in every imaginable way – from the vibrant, angry tattoos that bled across his face to his dark, unfashionable and just plain aggressive clothing. Most, though, don't notice him at all. The crowd was far too wrapped up in the drug infused coma, led ever on by that same consistent beat that made Boden twitch ever so slightly in his chair.

If the Zabrak cared about the few who did (the bartender, the bouncers who took not so subtle steps in the opposite direction) he didn't seem to care. Boden felt himself shudder slightly when the other Sith's attention came to rest on his resting spot and he felt like he could make out those gloriously fierce eyes from across the room.

The older Sith made short work of the club, casing it like one big, irritated cat before coming to rest before Boden's propped feet. For a moment, the young Sith apprentice let himself simply stare up – awed by the catechism of darkness he could feel flare around the tall being.

He'd heard from the few others left in their rather dwindled group that Maul was something else, but Boden had never actually met Sidious' apprentice and given the nature of their society chalked it up as intimidation tactics.

_But this…_

The amount of hate and fury and _dear gods_ raw hostility that bled through the Force was so strong from Maul that for a moment all he could do was stare up at Zabrak. It wasn't until those eyes narrowed with clear annoyance that Boden came back to himself. Slowly, ever aware of those brilliantly tainted eyes watching him (ready, Boden was sure, to kill him with only the slightest provocation) the younger apprentice slid his feet of the free chair and gestured to it.

The Zabrak sat with that same cat like grace before reaching out and setting a small, slightly bloody communicator on the table between them. _My scout's comm. unit…I didn't think he'd actually come._

It had taken Boden the better part of two years to track down the Sith apprentice and now that he had him sitting next to him, the teenager couldn't quite believe it. Every other time he could have sworn he was close – times when he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Zabrak was on the same planet or in the same sector and sent out some idiotic, cred strapped fool to track down the Sith he had been ignored.

So why now?

Boden realized belatedly that he was still staring, wide eyed and silent, at the Sith next to him. Maul's eyes hadn't left his form once, head cocked ever so slightly as he watched him back. What was wrong with him? Boden felt flushed, more than a little embarrassed by his reaction to the Zabrak apprentice. It was just, the Sith was unlike any he'd felt before. Maul felt nothing like the Dark Jedi or Acolytes he had encountered and certainly nothing like his Master. The darkness that radiated off of him was almost intoxicating.

_Shavit, get a grip Boden._

He took a hit off the long, thin cigarette that had been almost completely forgotten in his hand and tried to shrug off the heaviness that has settled around his brain. The beat was so loud and he could still taste the sweetness of the liquor he'd downed before Maul arrived. Boden flicked the still burning cigarette away into the crowd, snorting in amusement as a dancer stopped abruptly and began to rub at the spot it had hit. The small, pointless act helped ground him and Boden turned to face the still staring Sith

…the human really hadn't thought the older Sith would come. If he had, the raven haired teen would have laid off the pills.

"I take it you got my message." His voice was indistinguishable from the music and ignoring several rather loud survival instincts Boden leaned across the chair arm, more than aware that's he put himself in the immediate kill zone. "You're a hard man to track down."

"Don't waste my time, boy." The voice was more of a growl, a deep rumble that seems to admit from the Zabrak's chest and not his throat at all. Boden steadied himself, anchoring himself around the cool feel of his drink in his hand as he prepared himself. This would either be a marvelous success or he'll be dead.

Sith's really didn't do grey areas after all.

"I have a proposition for you." Boden finally announced, sounding amazingly calm and controlled despite the lump of fear in his throat and the fact that a part of his mind was still so wonderfully wrapped around that never ending beat. "All I ask is that you hear me out before you act."

There's a silence and not a muscle on the Zabrak's face moved. Boden takes that as a sign and carried on.

"Surely you've must have noticed our numbers growing rather slim." The Zabrak's head tilted down in the barest of nods and Boden allowed a small, grim smile to twist his lips. "I have brought my concerns to my Master and, as always, he bends to the will of your own and insists that our plans remain undetected. Yet, I cannot help but my find myself off put by these events. I can't help but wonder if perhaps the plan's been…compromised."

Amazingly, that sentence didn't end with Boden's head being removed from his shoulder in a clean strike. Maul was staring at him with an intensity now that seemed to make it impossible to breathe. The music had slowed into a rhythmic, trance like beat that somehow seemed to match the slow, steady rise and fall of Maul's chest.

"And if I was to agree?"

Boden couldn't help his sudden intake of air – and he didn't care because he doubted the Zabrak could hear his gasp over the music anyway – before allowing a small, knowing smile to climb across his face. He shifted slightly closer to the Zabrak, gesturing with his drink as he spoke.

"Then I purpose we do something about it. I mean no disrespect to either of our masters," A blatant lie, considering what he was purposing, "but I'm not going to die – allow our Order to die! – because two old men refuse to see the signs."

The younger Sith felt a very real thrill of animosity at his words. Both Sidious and Tyranus had put years, decades, of their lives into this plot and like all old things refused to change with the times. Boden may have only spent a few years under his brother's tutelage but Xanatos had taught him a great many things, including when to cut and run.

And he hated Dooku. Had hated him since the moment he'd first saw him. Years of study under the man found his hatred twisting into an all-encompassing abhorrence and revulsion when he'd seen the disgusting mechanical beast he'd brought in. His loathing of the older man was complete the moment that Boden realized he wasn't going to learn anything more from the Lost Jedi.

But at sixteen, Boden still had miles to go before he could reach anywhere near the level that the older Sith next to him was. He could not leave without securing himself some sort of protection.

"That is why I sought you out. You see," Boden dropped his eyes demurely; focusing on the soft swirls of his drink, "I find no reason for either one of us to walk into a death trap, not when we could do this so much better then they."

Still alive. He may actually make it out of this meeting.

"And I find myself seemingly in need of a new Master."

There, he'd said it.

Boden watched the misshapen flecks of ice float around his drink, keeping his eyes averted from the silent Zabrak's form. The music had changed pace again but the beat was even louder if that was at all possible. Boden felt like his entire body shake with it and it took him a moment to realize that his body was actually physically rocking with it.

Maul still hadn't answered him and Boden could feel the Zabrak's predatory gaze on him, could feel the will of the man sitting next to him blazing like a beacon through the Force. The tension was mounting inside of him, somehow pulsating in perfect rhythm with the music, gaining and rising in volume with each second that passed. Right when Boden felt like he was going to drift apart under the combined feeling, the drink he'd been studying was ripped out of his hand before he even realized it was gone and a gloved hand fists the front of his shirt and pulled.

The young human grunted, body splayed and pinned awkwardly against the cheap table top. His hand flew to his lightsaber on instinct but Boden released it just as quickly, going limp as a gloved hand gripped his chin crushingly. Despite the sheer terror racking his body, Boden forced himself to hold the Zabrak's fierce eyes, forced himself to keep his body lax. It was utter submission and something dark and angry inside the human flared at it, anger curling in his stomach at the act. But Boden forced it down, promising it would have its time. But right now, right now he had to _submit._

"You're high." There was a tint of amused disbelief in the older Sith's voice, "Do you have a death wish, boy?"

"Yeah, I am." His answer was breathless, but fearless. "And no, I don't. That's why we met, remember?"

The human knew he should be terrified by the look of dark humor that filled the Zabrak's face. Boden knew he should be fucking petrified but it was hard when there was that damn beat and his body felt like it was about to float away with the raw victory of _holy-shit-I-may-have-pulled-this-off_ that was filling him.

The teenager couldn't stop the reflexive gasp as the hand on his chin slid down until it clasped around his throat with just enough pressure to make his breath come in harsh, wheezing pants. The slightest flick of the beasts wrist and he'd be a memory. The grip tightened once more before releasing him with enough force to send him toppling off the table and back into his seat, wide eyed.

"Don't disappoint me."

Boden dared a slanted, toothy grin that was more his brother's then his own, "Never, my Master."

* * *

It was dark.

Everything was dark.

Darker than any of the sunless planets he'd ever visited during the war. An utter blackness that seemed impossible. Yet it expanded forever in every direction.

_Where…am…I?_

Blinking hard against the sluggish film that seemed to envelope his brain, Obi-Wan forced himself to focus, he had to figure out where he was. Why was it so hard to think? He rubbed at his forehead in frustration, shaking his head back in and forward violently as if that would somehow rid his mind of the fogginess that seemed to settled there. After a moment, the Jedi gave up with a sigh, glancing wearily around into the darkness before taking a few hesitant steps forward.

Moving was strange. Everything was heavy, weighted, as if he was underwater.

What had he been doing? There was something with…with Master Yoda. And Qui-Gon. And…and…a ghost?

… _that sounds crazy. Even for me._

Forcing the growing panic in his chest down, Obi-Wan stopped his stumbling advance into the nothing and concentrated on breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Calm. Control. After a long moment, the Jedi finally felt composed enough to open his eyes once more – and felt his heart leap at the sight before him.

"Anakin?"

* * *

The silence in the hall was incredible. The Grandmaster simply watched as the three younger Jedi gathered around the unconscious teen, each face a different study in the same emotion. From where he stood, Rahm watched stunned as his former Master shifted Obi-Wan until the padawan was almost completely in his lap. Qui-Gon looked exhausted, utterly spent. Rahm shivered. He supposed he would to, after witnessing his own death. And Kenobi's. And so many other Jedi.

Just what had he seen here?

Rahm exchanged a bewildered glance with Kit, both Jedi wondering just what it was they had witnessed. The Knight had never heard the Hearthstone even remotely doing anything other than sitting there and glowing occasionally.

Not…well, whatever it was that had just happened.

It was Kit that broke the heavy silence first, crouching down next to the human Master. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to seem insensitive here, but what the hell was that?"

"The future." Qui-Gon answered softly and the Nautolan reared from him as if he'd spit on him. Rahm exchanged a second, even more bewildered glance with Kit before he joined them on the floor, crouching closer to his old friend and placing a comforting hand on his broad shoulder.

He had known Qui-Gon Jinn for more years then he'd care to admit. Kota would give his friend a chance to explain himself before jumping to conclusions. "The…future?"

"It happened right before I met him." The older Master said stiffly, not looking at either one of them. "Those were Obi-Wan's memories. He showed them to me, far less then what we saw here, on Geauga."

Rahm shook his head in confusion. Kit was staring at Qui-Gon intensely, his head tresses flicking at the tips. "Memories? How could the future be a memory?"

"I believe it was a vision, a massive one. Only Obi-Wan doesn't believe it's a vision. To him, he lived and died at his apprentice's hands and suddenly woke up twelve years old again. It was the reason why Obi-Wan fled the Order. He-"

"- saw something that he thought he could prevent." Kit finished suddenly, his entire body quivering. A webbed hand reached up to tug at his tresses in an anxious tell. "Force, the kid all but spelled it out to me before. This is real, isn't it? What we saw – those bodies, that boy-"

"Always in motion, the future is." A soft voice answered and the three turned as one to stare at the Grandmaster in surprise. Somehow, in the way that only Yoda was ever capable of doing, they had forgotten the ancient Jedi's presence completely. "Already changed much, young Kenobi has."

"He does not believe it is enough." Qui-Gon said sharply and Rahm felt adrenaline spike through his system at the thought that those images could still come true. That the Temple could burn. That so many would die at the hand of those strange, white armored armies.

"Then we will make it enough." The younger Human said harshly, hands fisting at his side. He'd already lost one home to war, he would not lose another. Kit let out a hiss of agreement, black eyes blazing.

Yoda only sighed. "Mediate on these new facts, we must, before any action can be taken." A clawed hand pointed to the still body in Jinn's arms. "Now, to the healing ward, you must take the boy."

There was a startled gasped from the teenager and Rahm's attention snapped back, breath catching in alarm as Obi-Wan's skin literally bleached white in front of them.

* * *

Even as he said the name, Obi-Wan knew it was not him. The Anakin of his memory was older. Darker. Twisted. The one before him was bright, a beacon of light with white-blonde hair, sun kissed skin and sweet dimples.

"No," the boy gave him a small, kind smile, "I am not he." He gestured to himself. "You mind made this form for you because it thought it would be easier."

Obi-Wan felt his brows furl in confusion. "My mind? What do you mea-" It hit him suddenly and the Jedi paled, spinning around to stare at the darkness surrounding them with abrupt comprehension. He was inside his own psyche.

How was that even possible? This was impossible! For him to be existing like this in his own mindscape, how was this – this wasn't possible!

"Is it really so strange for you to believe?" A blonde head cocked to the side as blue eyes observed him with a cool curiousness. "Have you not done the impossible already?"

"You raise a valid point." Obi-Wan conceded dryly, heaving an annoyed sigh, the panic leaving him with the knowledge of his surroundings.

Not-Anakin snorted. "Of course I do. I'm you."

"Well then, care to explain why I seem to be wandering around my own mind?" He looked around the black landscape and wondered what it meant that the inside of his mind was so blank. The Not-Anakin had moved closer during his observation, but the preoccupied Jedi only noticed it when a small hand slid into his own.

Obi-Wan started at the sudden contact.

"It's quite simple, Obi-Wan." The small head titled back, sending golden locks shimming backwards as the Not-Anakin stared up at him, blue eyes pupil-less and deep, and suddenly every instinct in the Jedi was screaming at him to get away. "We have gone as far as we can."

The bottom of Obi-Wan's stomach dropped out, the sound of those words filling him with trepidation as he tried to escape. It was undoable though, as the Jedi found the small hand gripping his own was resolute. "Let me go!"

"I cannot, because you do not want me to."

"What? Stop talking in riddles!"

"We cannot carry on with the path you have set us upon."

" _What?"_

Not-Anakin sighed as if he was the one being put upon, then repeated himself with great emphasis on each word. "We cannot carry on with the path you have set us upon, because you will not allow us too."

The blackness around them was shifting – like a camera suddenly coming into focus – and Obi-Wan let out a choked whimper as the world alit with orange. His skin flushed with heat, sweat lining every crevice of his body as the mining pit of Mustafar materialized around him.

"No." The Jedi managed to croak out, fear and desperation warring equally in his voice. "Stop it."

The Not-Anakin was staring up at him with something like pity. "I would, if you would only allow us too."

Obi-Wan shut his eyes and focused on trying to wake up.

"We should have died." The little boy's voice sounded tired and small, but when he spoke next it was suddenly deeper, older. The hand gripping his own was larger as well, calloused and scarred. Obi-Wan's eyes flew open and to his horror, he found himself facing a fully adult Anakin.

With a cry he finally ripped his hand away, skidding backwards from the taller man before catching himself against an unbelievably hot metal railing. The heat of it bit at him and Obi-Wan stared, wide eyed and terrified at the blistered burns on his hands. The pain felt so real – how was that even possible? How was any of this happening? How could you hurt yourself inside your own mind? Force – Force he had to be going mad. There was no other explanation. Absolutely mad.

"We had no right to live. Because of this, we can go no further. I am here to remedy this. Do you understand?"

There was the unmistakable _shh-hiss_ of a lightsaber and Obi-Wan's head snapped up, paling at the sight of the Not-Anakin, yellow eyes blazing and face cold, shifting into an all too familiar ready stance.

"Do you understand, Obi-Wan?"

* * *

Master Healer On Sook T'way was a man who took pride in his specialty. Far more adept at mental manipulation and psychic abilities then most Mirialan Jedi, On Sook had felt he truly had found his place in mind healing. Like all Jedi he had spent an extensive amount of time in the field, learning firsthand the evils of the universe. It was what he experienced out there that led him to become a mind healer. The Jedi were sent more often than not into the worst of the worst, where they saw and participated in acts of great evil they were not always capable of preventing. Such things left a wound on any person – but it was doubly so for a Jedi, whose connection to the Force allowed them to feel it so much more deeply. These things could cause massive mental trauma and yet, for reasons that the Mirialan could just not understand field agents were not necessarily required to seek out aid to deal with these scars.

Trying to get a revision in the medical rules to include mandatory evaluations every month and after particularly damaging missions instead over bi-annually had been T'way's personal cause for little over five years. There was resistance to the idea for several different reasons, but the main excuse given was it would create a logistical and bureaucratic nightmare, trying to keep track of all the Jedi members as well as forcing the very unwilling field agents into evals.

Mental healing through Force presences was a relatively new field and there also existed a rather illogical fear and distrust of Jedi who possessed the mental fortitude to traverse another's mind. On Sook could understand the discomfort of allowing another in so deeply past personal shielding, but it was for their own health! This was not something that could be taken lightly! A Jedi's mind was a dangerous place indeed and more capable of harming its owner then most ever realized.

So, yes, On Sook T'way was determined to do everything that was necessary to bring his initiative into reality – even if meant bringing the Jedi Order kicking and screaming into a new era of healthcare.

It was also why he was standing, face paling until it was a light, minty green, staring at a boy he had never forgotten but never expected to see again. Obi-Wan Kenobi had aged considerably since he had first appeared in his office all those years ago, though it was hard to tell what he looked like with the oxygen mask firmly clasped over his face.

The soft whirl of the breathing machines was the only sound in the small room. Qui-Gon Jinn, the boy's Master, was hunched over in his hospital chair, his forehead pressed against his clasped hands and looking grossly oversized in the small room. Knights Kota and Fisto were also present, both leaning on either side of the large man. Rahm Kota's hand was pressed comfortably against the older human's shoulder. All three Jedi were fairly famous, certainly more than the crowd that On Sook ran with, and he pushed away a bubble of discomforting inferiority before entering the room.

All three Jedi looked up and the Mirialanoffered them a small smile, the same one that all healers offered, one that was a mix of reassurance and grim understanding, before reaching for the apprentice's chart. His eyes roved quickly over the datapad, frowning at what he saw.

Obi-Wan had been admitted a little under three hours ago. The patient was comatose with zero response to pain or outside mental stimuli, presenting with extreme respiratory distress and a dangerously high fever. Bio-scans showed nothing to explain the current state, however did indicate massive brain activity, particularly in the sections denoting dreams. A light Force scan had revealed little due to the boy's apparently abnormally high shielding, yet still indicated that a specialist should be called in.

Which was how T'way had arrived at the scene.

Frowning more heavily now, the Mirialan approached the right side of the bed, the only side not currently crowded by Jedi. For a moment he simply glanced at the still human boy, recalling a time long ago that he had been so disturbed by him. On Sook had been unsure what it was that was wrong with the teenager, but whatever it was even then he could tell it was extraordinary. In the short half hour he had spent in his office, Obi-Wan had spent most of it in silence. But everything – from the way he had sat so stiffly (in the only chair that allowed clear visage of the entryway and window besides T'way's own desk char), to the how he reacted to every new stimuli (he had tensed, every muscle pulled taunt, at the sound of the air registers kicking on), to the way he spoke (which had been far, far too collected for someone his age), Obi-Wan Kenobi had been _off._

On Sook had bitterly kicked himself after the human had gone missing. He had known something was wrong, so very wrong, and had he pressed the Mirialan most likely could have kept him within the safety of the Temple walls for at least a few more weeks.

The mystery of Obi-Wan Kenobi had plagued him for months after he'd met the kid and had continued (less frequently, but still present) over the years. Somehow – even back then – T'way had known that he would see Obi-Wan again. He had known that he was meant to help him.

"My name is On Sook T'way. I'm a Mind Healer, Master class." He introduced softly. "I've come to help Obi-Wan if I can. Can someone give me a brief explanation of how he found himself in this state?"

Fisto and Kota exchanged an almost nervous glance behind Jinn's folded figure, before simultaneously seeming to come to an agreement to say nothing at all as the human Jedi's silence stretched on.

Sighing, T'way shook his head. It was Master Yoda who had insisted he be called in, as it was not his day on call, and so the Mirialan was not quite as surprised at the dramatics involved as he could have been. Whenever Master Yoda specified his presence, it was also with the understanding that certain discretion would be required.

"I see. I will ask as few questions as possible, but should I feel it necessary to Obi-Wan's recovery to probe, I shall." On Sook warned, attempting and failing to sound stern.

"Do what you must." Jinn finally said, his voice low and rough.

The three Jedi across from him were watching his actions with an intensity that was unnerving, but On Sook ignored them as he placed an olive hand against the padawan's burning forehead. Orange eyes slid close and with a deep breath. Obi-Wan's shielding was indeed impressive, but it was grossly weakened by the illness ravaging his body. T'way had only just probed the boy's mind when his eyes flew open, snapping from the pale form to its Master in confusion.

"Why was Obi-Wan not brought in before this?" On Sook was slightly surprised at the intensity of the scorn in his own voice, but then again, the sheer amount of anarchy that had been hinted at was incredibly alarming. "I can only skim the surface, but he shows all the classic patterns of post-traumatic stress disorder."

"…there was no time, I suppose." Jinn answered slowly. "He was kidnapped and only recently returned to the Temple."

It was a lie and for a long moment T'way simply stared at the older Jedi before sighing, pressing his cool palm against a sweat-dampened forehead once more and tried to get an understanding of what the hell was going on. Even unconscious, the padawan would only tolerate his presence on the most forefront of his mind which in itself was impressive. Either Obi-Wan was a progeny in the mental arts or he had had drastic training in the area of resistance to Force probes. Neither one of these options seemed to make sense given his tender age and the supposed years wasted in unguided captivity.

Still, what On Sook could see was…chaotic. And even that term was being generous. He was unsure how long he stood there, eyes scrunched in concentration, Force signature pulsating as it tried to calm and understand what he was observing.

* * *

The Mirialan healer had been standing stock still, like a statue, for the better part of an hour. From where he sat, Qui-Gon frowned, gladly accepting the cup of coffee Kit offered him. He was more than a little concerned for his padawan. Obi-Wan had been utterly unresponsive, even to his mental probes, and wrecked in a way that he had not seen since that first night of captivity years ago.

T'way was supposed to be the leading expert in his field and that thought both comforted and concerned him. If there was anyone who could explain what was happening to his padawan, it was most likely T'way. But at the same time, Qui-Gon was unsure of what the other Master would see inside Obi-Wan's mind. A misstep so close to the inquiry could be disastrous.

There was movement on the other side of the bed, and next to him both Rahm and Kit stalled in their conversation about teaching techniques. The Mirialan's eyes slid open, the orange so dark suddenly they seemed almost brown, yet all the healer did was stare blankly at the wall. From his right, Rahm frowned, taking a careful step forward as T'way swayed slightly were he stood.

"Master T'way?" The Knight gently prompted, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. "Do you want me to get you something to drink? Perhaps you need to sit down."

"No," On Sook managed after a moment, his voice raspy, "no, I'm fine." The Master blinked hard and then turned to stare at them, his expression severe. "However, I believe we need to have a serious conversation, gentlemen."

Qui-Gon stood abruptly, eyes shooting to Obi-Wan's monitors as if any second they were going to crash. "What's wrong? What's happened?"

"What's wrong is that your reluctance to be honest with me, Master Jinn. That will change, now. When was Obi-Wan at war? The amount of wear and tear in Kenobi's mind outpaces those I've seen who have been in the field or thirty or forty years."

A long silence filled the room. Qui-Gon stared flatly at the healer, torn between wanting to provide his padawan with the help he so desperately needed and not giving anything away that could prove detrimental. Where was Master Yoda? Why wasn't he here to handle this? The healer stepped away from the bed, running a hand through his hair in an almost desperate act.

"Not to mention the fact that the sheer amount of grief inside of him – and what I saw was only the surface! He should have been brought to me so much sooner. Maybe then I could have halted it, but now…"

There was a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach, a dread that quickly climbed upwards until it grasped his heart tightly and Qui-Gon reached out, grasping the railing of the hospital bed as if to anchor himself. "But now?"

For a long moment T'way stared at him, before sighing. "Are you familiar with the term 'Wound in the Force,' Master Jinn? No? I'm not surprised, it is as ancient as it obscure. It is defined as a weakness in the fabric of the Force. Caused by a traumatic event, usually a massive loss of life that echoes through the living Force. The last time such an event was recorded was Malachor V, during the Jedi Civil Wars and the time of Revan."

"You're talking about legends and mystics," Kit interrupted suddenly; "there is no proof that the Force centralizes and creates a dark place when an act of mass evil is committed. For Forcesake, they can't even prove Malachor V existed. We don't have time for this!"

"Calm, Kit." Rahm chided, laying a comforting hand on the glowering Knight. "Though I agree I do not see what this has to do with Obi-Wan."

"I assure you, that a Wound in the Force a very real phenomenon. And as for what it has to do with Obi-Wan, I can't explain how or why – but your padawan has somehow become a Wound." On Sook shook his head, hands twisting as they gripped each other. "Trust me, I know how crazy this sounds, but it's not unprecedented. Meetra Surik-"

"Meetra Surik? The Jedi Exile?" Kit asked with a choked laugh, throwing both of his hands up in disbelief. "At least you chose one we have a holo-pic of. But still, Jinn, you…you can't possibly believe this? This is ancient history – this is practically mythology. We need-"

"Is it any harder for you to believe than any of the other things you have witnessed today?" Qui-Gon interrupted, leveling the Nautolan with a dark glare, more than slightly annoyed with the interruption. The Knight froze before slowly closing his mouth.

"No. I guess not." He agreed softly. "Perhaps it will do no harm to admit that this entire thing has left the realm of normal a long time ago. Please, Master T'way, continue."

The rather rattled looking Mirialan nodded. "The ancient texts say that Surik carried a wound inside of her from all those who died during Malachor V, that it nearly drove her to madness – to the darkside."

"Obi-Wan is not dark." Qui-Gon interrupted harshly, his voice almost a bark.

"I'm not suggesting that," T'way quickly backtracked, "after all Surik re-founded the Order." The Mirilian looked as if he was struggling to find the appropriate words. "Jedi are tied so closely to the Force that sometimes, without ever meaning to, they can turn that power inwards. Use it against themselves. I had a case a few years ago, involving a human Jedi with little empathic or psychic powers outside of what was considered below-norm Force sensitivity. The Jedi Master had accidently beheaded his own padawan.

He had been heavily drugged at the time and utterly unaware of what was happening. Despite the fact that no one held him at fault, the Master could not forgive himself. For years, the Jedi had carried the guilt of killing his own padawan. He turned that inward. Eventually he began to experience a phantom pain; a horrid burning sensation across his neck."

From where he stood, Qui-Gon felt his knees go weak, eyes widening in sudden comprehension. But the mind healer was not yet done.

"The similarity with the death of his padawan was not a coincidence. The Master had been punishing himself with his own powers. Each attack built on itself, until, at the most extreme, his body closed off his throat causing suffocation and what could have easily been death. And he had a fraction of the natural ability I sense in your padawan. Obi-Wan has witnessed something that has created a Wound in him, that has opened him up to the darker elements of the Force.

And these – they pray on him…For reasons I cannot begin comprehend, he believes he's directly responsible for whatever it is that has happened. What I'm saying, Master Jinn, is your padawan has been inadvertently killing himself. From what I can tell, for years. With how deeply this is belief is routed," On Sook let out a soft sound, shaking his head, "he could very well succeed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Wound in the Force: Is defined by Wookeepedia as being "created whenever a massive loss of life occurred. All life in the galaxy was interconnected and when a significant number of lives were suddenly ended, the Force sustained a localized injury much like a sentient who had lost a limb. The epicenter of the wound became a dark place, filled with the reverberating echoes of the pain, terror, and suffering of the life forms who had lost their lives." People, such as the Exile and Darth Nihilus could carry parts of this inside them, leading to various different results. For Obi-Wan, it was Order 66 and his immediate closeness via mental link to Anakin and the genocide of the Jedi in the Temple that causes this.
> 
> Kit's Disbelief: While there is documents that acknowledge the existence of the Exile (she did re-founded the Order, after all) mush surrounding her life and the life of Revan are considered to be legends. Stories that have shifted and been added to over time.
> 
> Mental Health Field: This was totally my invention. I decided to make the concept of mind-reading/mental mind walking (such as transporting one's mental personification inside the plain of another creature) a new technique being developed. Or rather, a newly re-discovered technique. I figure it was used as a weapon once, fell out a favor and/or was never used a manner of healing. Totally was inspired by other fandoms here, like Naruto.
> 
> Obi-Wan's Vision: Is not a vision. That's just what most people belive. He is, quite literally, Doc Brown here.
> 
> PTSD: Some serious shit, I see it a lot and it can happen very, very easily. Read a dissertation on a new and up and coming idea (not that the military will ever embrace it, because it implies its actions are incredibly detrimental to folks) that PTSD can be caused by a 'moral injury.' This can be anything from death of civilians in cross fire, to just the act of killing, to outliving your buddy on the field. They say that losing a friend in combat is more damaging mental then losing a spouse, even if you have been married for over a decade. I figure that if anyone was a candidate for PTSD, it would be Obi-Wan.


End file.
